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LIFE 



ADVENTURES 



James Williams 

A KUOITIVE SLAVE 



WITH A FULL DESCRIPTION OF THE 



UiSTDERGROUND RAILROAO 






FIKTH EDITION 



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PHILADELPHIA : 
A. H. SiCKLER & Co., 514-16 Minor Street 



£7450 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year eighteen hundred and seventy- 
three, 

By JAMES WILLIAMS, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



n 



6 



PREFACE. 

The Author, thinking an account of his hfe and experience 
would be of service to persons into whose hands it might fall, 
has, by the advice of some of his friends, come to the con- 
clusion to narrate, as correctly as possible, things that he 
encountered and that came under his notice during a period 
of some forty-five years. He hopes, after a perusal of his 
first attempt, the reader will pardon him for any errors which 
may have been Committed ; and if I can only think that any 
good may have grown out of my Adventures, I shall then 
consider that I have commenced to answer the end I and all 
human beings were created for — having lived that the world 
may be bettered by me. 

JOHN THOMAS EVANS, {formerly,) 

Nozv]KMES WILLIAMS. 



I N DBX 



Page 

When and where born 7 

Why I ran away 1 1 

First contact with the Underground Railroad 12 

In the riot against the Killers 14 

Escape from pursuers 15 

Raffling for geese, and what came of it 18 

Making coffee out of salt water .23 

Dancing with the Irish girls and swollen feet 24 

Off for California 24 

Find a friend on the Isthmus 25 

Arrive in Cahfornia and go to Mining 31 

Leave California for Mexico 34 

Ship for Talcahuano 34 

Again in California in 1853 3^ 

Go to Vancouver Island, come back, and go to Washoe. 37 

Agency of A. M. E. Church 40 

Perseverance and Apple Dumplings 44 

The mission of the flowers ... 47 

Lizey Thompson 55 

Linchcomb's Story 5^ 

Who will make laws } 5^ 

Not to be the man 58 

I am wounded 5^ 

Why they so dislike me 57 

What did I do to them ? 59 

Anxious for the office 60 

Sketches of the Catholic and Protestant Churches . . 64 

Blessed are ye ^^ 

Collecting for the Church 66 

Susan Neal 6y 



INDEX 

Page 

Story of Charles Thompson . 69 

Story of Henry Box Brown 71 

Story of a Young Woman — name unknown 75 

Story of Harry Grimes yj 

Story of George Laws 79 

Story of Pete Mathews 80 

Story of Leah Green 82 

Liberty, or Jim Bowlegs 84 

Story of Abram Galoway and Richard Easier . . . . Z6 

Story of Ann Johnson and Lavina Woolfley 89 

Story of William and Ellen Craft 90 

Story of Barnaby Grigby and others 98 

Report cut from Maryland Examiner 100 

Name of Stockholders in the U. G. R. R loi 

Spiritualism 102 

Bigamy 105 

Modoc War 106 

Precious Scripture Words 107 

California 108 

Chinese in California 109 

Opinions of the Press no 

Execution of Charles A. Russell in 

The Modocs — Hanging of Capt. Jack 115 

Antecedents of the Modoc War , . . . 119 

Fire in Yellow Jacket Mine, Gold Hill 122 

The Christian's Voyage 129 



LIFE AND ADVENTURES 



OF 



JAMES Williams 



San Francisco, 



I, JOHN THOMAS, was born in Elkton, Cecil county, 
Maryland, April i, a. d. 1825, in the house of my master, 
William Hollingsworth, being born a slave. I remained with 
him until I was thirteen years of age, when I took one of his 
blooded mares and made my escape. Whilst riding, I met a 
number of men, one of whom said to me : " Little boy, where 
are you going ? " " I am going to Mr. Cuche's Mill." " Who 
do you belong to?" "I belong to Mr. William Hollings- 
worth." I at the time had on two pairs of pants, with leather 
suspenders over my coat. A man asked me, " Why do you 
wear your suspenders over your coat?" "These are my 
overalls, to keep my pants clean." Ere I arrived at Mr- 
Cuche's Mill I met a little boy. I said to him, " Little boy, 
what is the name of the next town beyond Mr. Cuche's 
Mill ?" He told me, "New London Cross Roads." Ere I 
arrived there I met a white man. He accosted me thus : 
" Boy, who do you belong to ? " I told him that I belonged 
to Mr. William Hollingsworth. "Where are you going to 
now?" " I am going to New London." At New London 
I met a school-boy. I asked him, " Where is the line that 
divides Maryland from Pennsylvania ? " He said, " New 
London is the line ? " I asked him, " What is the name of 
7 



8 

the next town?" He said, "Eaton Town." On my way I 
met another man ; he said to me, " Where are you going ? " 
I answered, "To Eaton Town." He said, "Where are you 
from ?" I said, " Cuche's Mill." He asked me if I belonged 
to Mr. Cuche. I said, " Yes." On my way I met two more 
men. They asked the same questions. I answered as before. 
When I arrived at Eaton Town, I asked a little boy what the 
name of the next town was. He said, " Russelville." As I 
went I saw a colored man cutting wood in the woods. I 
asked him, "What is the name of the next town.?" He 
said, " Russelville." I asked him if any colored families lived 
there. He said, "Yes; Uncle Sammy Glasgow." He ad- 
vised me to stop there. He asked me where I belonged. I 
said, " In New London Cross Roads ; " and for fear that he 
would ask to whom I belonged, I whipped up my horse and 
went my way. I was then a few miles in Pennsylvania, and 
I felt that I was a free boy and in a free State. I met a man, 
and he asked me where I was going. I said, "Russelville, 
to Uncle Sammy Glasgow." He asked me if I was a free 
boy. I said, " Yes." He said, "You look more like one of 
those little runaway niggers than anything else that I know 
of." I said, " Well, if you think I am a runaway, you had 
better stop me, but I think you will soon let me go." I then 
went to Russelville, and asked for Sammy Glasgow, and a 
noble old gentleman came to the door, and I asked him if he 
could tell me the way to Somerset, and he pointed out the 
way. I asked him if he knew any colored families there. 
He said, " Yes." He told me of one William Jourden, the 
first house that I came to, on my left hand. This Jourden 
was my stepfather ; he married my mother, who had run away 
years before, and the way that I knew where she lived was 
through a man by the name of Jim Ham, who was driving a 
team in Lancaster City, whose home was in Elkton. He 
came home on a visit, and was talking to one of the slave 
women one night; he sat with his arm around her, I, a little 
boy, sitting in the chimney-corner, asleep, as they thought, 
but with one eye open, and a listening. He whispered to 
her, saying, "I saw that boy's mother." She said, "Did 
you } Where ? " He said, " In Somerset ; she is married 
and doing well ; she married a man by the name of William 



Jourden." When I arrived at my mother's house, I met my 
stepfather in the yard, cutting wood, and I asked him if Mrs, 
Jourden was at home. He said, " Yes," and asked me in. I 
went in and sat down by the door. My mother asked me 
my name. I answered, "James Williams." She said, "Come 
to the fire and warm yourself!" I said, "No, that I was not 
cold." After sitting there awhile, I asked her if she had any 
children. She said, " Yes," and named one boy that belonged 
to William Hollingsworth, in Elkton. I asked if she had any 
more. She named my sister, that belonged to Thomas Moore, 
of Elkton, Vic, that had run away and was betrayed by a col- 
ored man, for the sum of one hundred dollars. I had a brother 
that went with my mother when she run away from Maryland. 
She did not say anything about him, but spoke of John Thomas. 
I asked her if she would know him if she saw him. She 
said, "Yes." I said, "Are you sure that you would know 
him } " She answered, " Yes ; don't you think I would know 
my own child ? " And becoming somewhat excited, she told 
me that I had a great deal of impudence, and her loud tone 
brought her husband in, and he suspicioned me of being a 
spy for the kidnappers. He came with a stick and stood by 
the door, when an old lady, by the name of Hannah Brown, 
exclaimed, 'Aunt Abby, don't you know your own child .' 
Bless God, that is him." Then my mother came and greeted 
me, and my father also. My mother cried, " My God, my 
son, what are you doing here.!*" I said, that "I had given 
leg-bail for security." My father took the horse and hid it in 
the fodder-stack. That night one William Smith, who was a 
good old minister, went back on the road, about six miles, 
with the horse, and put her on the straight road, and started 
her for home ; but the bridle he cut up and threw into a 
mill-race. I was told that on the morning of the second day 
the horse stood at her master's gate. To show the reader 
how my mother got free, I shall have to digress a little. She 
was sold by Tom Moore to Mr. Hollingsworth, for a term of two 
years, for the sum of one hundred dollars, and, at the expira- 
tion of that time, she was to go back to Tom Moore's. One 
morning Mr. Hollingsworth said, "Abby, it is hard enough 
to serve two masters, and worse to serve three. You have 
got three months to serve me yet, but here is twenty-five 



10 

dollars. I won't tell you to run away. You can do as you 
like." He told my uncle Frisby to take the horse and cart 
and carry her as far as a brook, called Dogwood Run, on the 
way to Pennsylvania. By these means my mother got her 
freedom, which shows that Hollingsworth had a Christian 
spirit, though a slaveholder. I stayed one night at my 
mother's, and in the morning I was taken on the Under- 
ground Railroad, and they carried me to one Asa Walton, 
who lived at Penningtonville, Pennsylvania, and he took me 
on one of his fastest horses and carried me to one Daniel 
Givens, a good old abolitionist, who lived near Lancaster 
City ; and I traveled onward, from one to another, on the 
Underground Railroad, until I got to a place of refuge. This 
way of travel was called the Underground Railroad. At the 
age of sixteen I commenced my labors with the Underground 
Road. The way that we used to conduct the business was 
this: A white man would carry a certain number of slaves 
for a certain amount, and if they did not all have money, 
then those that had had to raise the sum that was required. 
We used to communicate with each other in this wise : One 
of us would go to the slaves and find out how many wanted 
to go, and then we would inform the party who was to take 
them, and some favorable night they would meet us out in 
the woods ; we would then blow a whistle, and the man in 
waiting would answer, "All right;" he would then take his 
load and travel by night, until he got into a free State. Then 
I have taken a covered wagon, with as many as fourteen in, 
and if I met any one that asked me where I was going, I 
told them that I was going to market. I became so daring 
that I went within twenty miles of Elkton. At one time the 
kidnappers were within one mile of me ; I turned the corner 
of a house and went into some bushes, and that was the last 
they saw of me. The way we abolitionists had of doing our 
business was called the Underground Railroad ; and in all 
my travels I always found the Anglo-Saxons to be my best 
friends. 

The interpretation of the crowing of a chicken when 
Christ told Peter that he should deny him thrice before the 
cock crew : Peter denied him, and immediately the cock 
crew, and Peter immediately understood the interpretation. 



II 

And that is the right interpretation which I have heard in 
the watches of the night, when I have been traveling with 
some fellow being towards the North Star and a land of 
freedom. 

"Oh, give thanks unto the Lord God, for He is good, and 
His mercy endureth forever; He takcth my part against them 
that hate me. Oh, give thanks unto the Lord, for His mercy 
endureth forever. 

When I was ten years old I was a house-boy. I had to 
stand at the table and brush off the flies while the guests 
were dining. General Sue, Col. Partridge and others would 
be in conversation and talking about the slaves, saying, "My 
negro Dick and my boy Tom," and discussing what they could 
get for their slaves; saying, that Bennet had captured his 
negro Bill, that run away two years ago, and is now in jail, 
and that he was the first well-dressed negro, he met in Lom- 
bard street, Philadelphia, and when he recognized him, he said 
that he would come with him, and that he had no trouble to 
get him. One of the men turned his head, and said, "Tom, 
you must never run away. Bad boys are the only ones that 
run away, and when their master gets them, he will sell them 
to go to Georgia, where they will bore holes in your ears and 
plow you like a horse." Saying this for the purpose of fright- 
ening me, thinking that I would believe such stories. Seeing 
the difference between freedom and slavery, I made up my 
mind that when I was old enough I would run away. The 
reason I run away when I did was, because an old colored 
lady, by the name of Rachel, who was considered to be a good 
old aunty, became affronted at me, and misrepresented me, 
and told a lie on me, for which I was whipped with a raw- 
hide very severely. Perhaps ere this she hath gone to eter- 
nity ; if so, I hope ere she went she sought forgiveness, and 
is now resting from her labors, and the good works consum- 
mated by her are following her. Slaves, at times, did things 
which worked directly against each other, ignorantly. Be this 
as it may, the Creator hath a record of all transactions, and 
will. He says, render justice to all. I, therefore, leave the 
event to Him for adjustment. My master, in conclusion, 
threatened to sell me to Georgia. After receiving the chas- 
tisement, I went off sniffling and crying. On the following 



12 

Sunday morning I arose quite early and gave them leg-bail 
for security, and on one of his blooded mares I run away from 
him, or, in other words, she done the running and I on her 
back. I was then satisfied that I was getting out of the way 
of old John Thomas, instead of old Dan Tucker, as goes the 
old song, where I was then. The traders and slave-hunters 
went to my master and tried to get him to advertise me or 
employ them to hunt me, as the partridge upon the hill ; but 
he, being very close, would not employ them, but the law 
compelled him to advertise me, or pay a fine. He had such 
great confidence in me that I would come back again, that 
he said, " Oh, the boy has only gone on a spree, and will be 
home again in a few days." He offered a reward of two cents 
to apprehend me, and four cents to let me go scot-free, and 
ten dollars reward for the recovery of his black mare. But 
the spree that he thought I had gone on was never over until 
the year 1868. Arriving in Pennsylvania in the year a, d, 
'I838, I went to work for an abolitionist, by the name of Asa 
Walton. It was in the winter, and when the spring opened 
I went to work for one Mr. Dickerson, in the year 1839, ^^ 
five dollars per month. In a. d. 1840 I went to work for a 
Mr. Clarkson Crozier, at six dollars per month. He was also 
an abolitionist, and in 1841 I was still in his employ. When 
I was sixteen years of age I made a hand at mowing. In 
1842 I was still in that employ, and led the field, and was 
foreman of the farm, where I remained until 1843. In 1844 
I worked for one Mr. Hudson until September of the same 
year, when, to my great surprise, the kidnappers came upon 
me. The reader will not be surprised when I inform him of 
the fact that that was the first intimation I ever had of a 
surprise party ; for I was so much taken by surprise, that I 
went down into the bushes, and that was the last they saw of 
me. Thus the reader can aver that I surprised them also. 
In six months after I was again in the same place. In 1845 
I went to a quarterly meeting that was being held in Wil- 
mington, Delaware, at which I saw several white men I 
knew, who came from the place of my birth that I had run 
away from. They made sure they had me then, but I slipt 
through the crowd, ran in and through the church, out of the 
back door, and into the wagon that I had tied there in the 



13 

bushes behind the hill, and made off to New Gardens, that 
being the last they saw of me. I then went to Reading, Pa., 
and I there came in contact with the Underground Railroad. 
This was in 1846, and in 1847 ^ was again in Somerset town- 
ship, where the kidnappers first made me leave. I was that 
year again living with Clarkson Crozier, still engaged in the 
Underground Railroad business, havingalarge light four-horse 
wagon, with white cover over it. I then assumed the name 
James Williams. I would say to men who asked me, " Where 
are you going, Williams .'' " I would tell them I was going 
to Lancaster to market. At other times, when meeting them 
and they would ask me where I was going, I told them to 
Wilmington market. The wagon would be shut up tight to 
keep the rain and snow from spoiling the grain, and, at the 
same time, perhaps, I would have a load of slaves in there. I 
have carried as many as fourteen women and children at a 
load. The way we managed to get away slaves from the 
Southern States, we used to have runners there, and when 
any one wanted to get away, he would go to one of these 
runners and tell him he wanted to make his escape, and the 
runner would ask if he could raise a party of ten or fifteen. 
" If you can, you must raise a certain sum of money ; and if 
all have not got money, some must pay for others, until the 
money is raised, and then meet me at a certain place, with the 
amount of money. And now here is a whistle I will give you ; 
set your party against a certain night, and walk three miles 
from the place where you started, to a certain place, and when 
you get there, if there is nobody within sight, or nobody 
around but your own party, you blow your whistle three 
times, and when I answer, come direct to the answer." Now 
the reader may have some understanding how the Under- 
ground Railroad was conducted. In 1848 I was attacked by 
a party of kidnappers on the Lancaster Turnpike, and I had 
no weapons, only those God gave me, and, at that time, feel- 
ing myself to be much of a man, I used the weapons upon 
them pretty severely, and when I found myself getting out 
of breath, I jumped the fence and run through the cornfields, 
and went to a farmer's house, and told him what had happened 
to me. I gave him three dollars to take me to the cars that 
run to Philadelphia, and, by this means, I got clear of them. 



14 

After arriving there, I went to work in a brickyard, for a 
gentleman named Davis. I remained there until after the 
riot, taking part with the citizens against the Killers. I then 
made my escape to Reading, Pa. I remained there a few 
days, and, for fear of danger, I made my escape to Pottsville. 
This was still in 1848, and there I went to work in the coal 
mines. In the latter part of this year I left there and returned 
back to Philadelphia. In the beginning of 1849, ^ went to 
work for Mr. George Pickeron, who kept a hay-yard on Ger- 
mantown road. He was a lawyer, also ; he made me seller 
for him, and I remained with him about six months. I was 
walking out one evening, and was attacked by a set of white 
rowdies, and I having his pistol in my possession, I fired upon 
them, and I was taken that same night to the watch-house, 
and on the next morning, he being a lawyer, and going my 
security, he took my case in hand and cleared me, for the sum 
of twenty-five dollars. 

In the month of September, three days after, there was a 
large riot between the colored people and the Killers, I was 
identified with a company of young men, calling themselves 
the Stringers, and was placed that night as captain of the 
company. I fired the first shot on the Moyamensing Killers. 
When the California House was set on fire, at the corner of 
Sixth and St. Mary's alley, I rushed up to try to put it out, 
and was shot in my right thigh with buckshot, and also re- 
ceived a blow over my left eye — the mark of which is there 
until this day. I made my escape as soon as possible, and 
went to a doctor's; but the doctor, after looking at me, said, 
"You are not hurt; go and try them again." I went, and 
fought harder than ever. The women tore up all the side- 
walk, so that the men could get bricks and stones to fight 
with. At two o'clock in the morning the fighting ceased, but 
was renewed again at seven, and I was the first who fired on 
the Killers that day. An ofificer, calling himself by the name 
of Craig, attempted to arrest me, but I struck him a blow, 
which tumbled him to the ground. He got up and went away, 
but came back reinforced to arrest me, but the members of 
Goodwill Hose company, who were on the side of the colored 
citizens, came to my assistance, and then we had a free fight 
of it ; but I am sorry to say there were seven or eight of that 



15 

company shot that day. There were also two colored men 
shot, and several wounded, and the California House was 
burned to ashes. Cadwalader's company was called out to 
quell the riot, and succeeded in doing so. This riot was 
created by the Irish Democrats. 

I then made my escape to New York, where I remained 
about three months, and then returned back to Philadelphia. 
A Mr. Morris Buckman gave me a schooner to run from 
there to New York. I took the schooner to Trenton, then 
crossed through the canal to New Brunswick, and from there 
we sailed to New York. She was consigned to his brother. 
We laid at the Pier No. 2, North River. 

Early in 1850 I returned back to Philadelphia, and went 
into the ice-cream and fruit business. One night I went out 
to have a little fun at a swing-yard that was kept by a Mr. 
Dennis ; got into company with a couple of ladies, and there 
came a Mr. Brown, weighing about 190 pounds, forbidding 
me keeping company with those ladies. We had a great deal 
of controversy about it, and at last we came to blows ; but he 
was no more than an Indian rubber ball in my hands. After 
a few rounds the watchman sprung his rattle, and we all 
commenced running. I jumped a fence six feet high, out 
into an alley, in which happened to be living a family that I 
was acquainted with. Having lost my hat, I stood in their 
doorway bare-headed ; the watchman came running by, 
looking for the man that jumped the fence, and he asked me 
if I had seen a man jump the fence. I told him yes, and 
that he had just run down the street. Away he run after 
him, as he thought, and I borrowed a hat, went home and got 
to bed. A few days after that a colored man was arrested as 
a fugitive from labor, a slave, and, as was always my lot, I 
was into that fight. I was one of the men that helped to 
guard the Court-House all night, and stood watch to prevent 
him from being stolen from the watch-house. I was also one 
of the men that formed the plan to tear up the Wilmington 
railroad track to keep them from getting him away. At last 
they succeeded in stealing him away from us. Thank God ! 
slavery is dead now, and we will be troubled no more with 
that abominable curse, and I hope the time will come when 
we will be on a level with the Anglo-Saxon race, and the 



i6 

time not far distant when we will receive the full rights of 
American citizens. I thank God that I, who was once a 
slave, can lay down at night and take my rest without being 
afraid or molested, but can sleep with the consciousness that 
I am a freeman, and protected as such, and no longer looking 
towards the hills for refuge. But whom do I thank for it 
and whom do I praise, or in whom do I put my trust ? In the 
great God of heaven and of earth ; and since I have put my 
trust in Him I must also follow Him, and so long as I follow 
Him I will fear no evil. The God who delivered Daniel out 
of the den of lions is able to deliver me also ; and He has 
delivered me and kept me until this time, and I praise Him 
and give Him thanks forever. 

In the same year I saw a white man in Market street, 
whom I knew, and who thought he was smart enough to 
catch me, and seeing him, I crossed the street, and went into 
a store, and let on that I did not notice him. But, like a cat, 
I always slept with one eye open, and when I traveled I al- 
ways kept a keen eye and listening ear, and a silent tongue 
upon everything that I thought would betray me, and I never 
let it be known to any one that I was a fugitive until this 
day. When I came out of the store I quickly noticed that 
this white man had sent a policeman to arrest me — this po- 
liceman going some distance below me, and standing on the 
corner, and the man standing above on the other corner. 
This being done, I was in the middle. I was looking over 
my shoulder, and saw him beckon and point his finger. I 
then crossed the street, as if I noticed nothing, and in quick 
time. I then looked over my shoulder a second time, and 
saw him crossing after me. I then turned up a Httle alley 
in double quick time, and turning up another alley I left 
them out of sight. I then went to my boarding-house, kept 
by Mr. Hargas, on Eleventh street, near Lombard, four doors 
from the Masonic Hall. Mrs. Hargas said to me : " Mr. 
Wilhams, there has been two white men here looking for 
you; they. have just gone ; they asked me if I knew where 
they could find you, and I told them no — I did not know — they 
looked like strangers to me ; they went down Lombard street." 
I paid my bill, telling Mrs. Hargas that I was going to Lan- 
caster City, she not knowing that I was a fugitive slave. 



17 

I also said to her, "If they call again tell them that I am 
going to Lancaster city." I packed up my little trunk and 
went down South street in quick time, and meeting a colored 
man I gave him my trunk and told him to carry it down to 
the boat that went to New York. " Get me a check and say 
nothing to any one and bring it back to a certain corner to 
me." He did so. I then went very n.ear to the boat landing 
to a certain alley, where were some sugar casks, and stowed 
myself away there, like a fox when the hounds are after him, 
and my heart appeared to be in my throat. I had never 
told anybody about the circumstances under which I was 
placed, and the danger which I was in ; consequently I had no 
one to console me, or no friends to help rescue me, but, when 
the bell was ringing and I saw a chance to flee from danger, 
I ran and leaped aboard the boat, and was soon on my way 
to Trenton, but yet I felt a little alarmed. After landing 
there, I had to wait an hour for the down train, and still felt 
alarmed. During the time I was waiting, I did not know at 
what moment I might be arrested, and I looked upon every 
white man as my enemy at that time. Becoming hungry, I 
walked a short distance to a cake shop, ate a couple of pies, 
a few doughnuts, drank part of a bottle of spruce beer, put 
a few cakes into my pocket, and then asked the young man 
how much the bill was. He said forty cents, and I told him 
to charge it to Mr. Barnburner, and he said, "Yes, sir," and 
he went to the desk, took a pen and put it down in his book. 
I then said to him, "Did you charge it.?" and he said, " Yes, 
sir," and he further said, "Thank you, sir — you must come 
again." By that time the cars had come, and I jumped 
aboard, and left that place as soon as I could, and felt re- 
leased from danger. The next place I landed at was New 
York city. As soon as I landed at New York I went to 
work in a private boarding-house, kept by Mrs. Lent, on 
Leonard street and Broadway. After being there a few days, 
there was a colored man arrested at the Irving House, cor- 
ner of Broadway and Chambers streets, by the name of 
Henry Long. I went down to engage in a fight for him, and 
stayed there until he was delivered up to those who claimed 
to be his masters ; but I and another colored man attacked 
his master in the night time, in a public square, and he drew 



a six-shooter on us, and we gave back like cowards. We 
went next day to have him arrested, but as we made the at- 
tack on him first we did not succeed, so poor Henry was sent 
back. A few evenings after that I went to the Knicker- 
bocker Saloon, on Church street, near Thomas, where there 
was a raffle, and I commenced throwing chances, and as 
luck would have it, won two of them. The company gath- 
ered there looked more like rowdies than any class of men 
that I could compare them to, and all strangers ; but it being 
a raffle and the geese looked so fine and fat, I went in on 
that account and won them. One man says to me, "Old 
fellow, you have not won these geese fair ! You shall put 
them up and raffle them again. You have thrown three sixes 
twice and you have fingered the dice ; you must throw over 
again." Says I, "I shall not do it." " Well, if you don't, 
we will put a topnot over your eye." I, feeling myself 
pretty much of a man, said that I should carry the geese away 
with me, and that I could whip any man in the house, one 
after the other. A little boy, about twelve years of age, re- 
minded me of a little fierce dog barking at a large dog by 

jumping out before me and saying, "You nigger, you 

can't whip me!" shaking his fist in my face. I picked up 
my geese and started out doors, telling them to stand back, 
but they surrounded me in the street, and while talking to 
them one fellow struck me over the eye and landed me half 
way across the street. Falling to the ground, my geese 
went one way and my plug hat another. When I received 
that blow I thought that I saw stars. I lay some seconds 
as a dead man, and when I arose I commenced calling out 
for the watchman, who came and rescued me. He went 
with me to pick up my hat and into the house where the 
affair happened to arrest the man that struck me and to 
get my geese for me. They told the policeman that " the 
man that struck him is not here, and neither are the geese 
here ; they are both strangers to us, but this fellow has cheated 
the other, for he fingered the dice, 'and that was the way he 
won the geese." In the meantime the landlord asked the 
officer to come up and take a drink ; the offlcer turned to me 
and said: "You leave here; if you don't I will take you to 
the watch-house, for I know all these men don't lie." Said 




Page 22. 




Page 24. 



21 

I, " Mr, Watchman !" Said he, " No talk out of you." This 
house was kept by one Mr. McDonald, a very dark man. 

The next day I had such a big eye that I could not go to 
my service place, consequently I had to leave. I then went 
down to the Tombs to see if I could not have him arrested. 
The judge asked me if I belonged to New York. I said, 
"No, sir." He said, " Have you been here long.?" I said, 
"No, sir, only five or six weeks." "Well, where are you 
working ?" I said, "At Mrs. Lent's." " Have you ever been 
here before ?" " Yes, sir, dozens of times." "Where do you 
belong when you are at home .?" I told him that I belonged 
to Philadelphia. " So you Philadelphia niggers come here 
and try to whip our New York niggers, and when you cannot 
you try to have them arrested. Well, they have only given 
you a present over your eye." He then asked me if I had 
any money. I told him no. He then said, "Get out of my 
office before I give you another over the other eye." So I had 
to leave with my black eye. I have never raffled since, for it 
learned me a lesson never to go into a strange place to raffle. 

A few evenings after that I was standing on the corner of 
Thomas street, and a man struck me with a club, and he 
landed me half way across the street on my knees. I never 
found out who he was or what it was done for, and had no 
suspicion of any one. About a week after, on the corner 
of Anthony and Broadway, I met a colored woman, and she 
says to me, "Come, my dear, and go home with me." I said 
to her, " I am greatly obliged to you, my friend ; I never 
accompany a strange lady or ladies home, more especially 
when I am in a strange place." She commenced to abuse 
me, and I grew belligerent, and she called the watch. I ran, 
and as I passed the corner the watchman struck me with his 
mace, but I outrun him. He ran me about six blocks, but 
I outrun the whole party out of sight by making a warm run, 
I at last ran into the arms of a gentleman, and he said to 
me : " Tell me what the matter is, and tell me what you 
have done, and, if it is of no account, I will let you go." I 
told him the whole story, just as it was and had happened. 
He said, "If that is all, go; and you have done nothing more 
than what was right, and if I see the officers I shall turn them 
back." I then made a straight line for home. 



22 



A few weeks after that I went to work for George Webster, 
at the corner of Church and Leonard streets, who was to 
pay me by the week. I worked three weeks for him, but got 
no pay, and could get none. I figured up how much was 
coming to me, and went and got twenty gentlemen, and tak- 
ing them to Mr. Webster's, who kept a house of entertain- 
ment, called for supper. After sapper we all called for 
drinks. I then told him to charge it to me. He said no, he 
would charge it to the gentlemen. They said, "No, Mr. 
Williams invited us, and we came with that understanding. 
He then cursed at me, and said he knew that was what I was 
up to when I came down ahead, and for a little he would 
give me a good flogging. As soon as he said that I blazed 
away at him with tumblers, the rest following suit. In a few 
minutes his wife came with a kettle of hot water and he with 
a butcher's knife, and while the rest were in the skirmish I 
made for the door, which I took off from the hinges and 
dropped on the sidewalk. 

A few evenings after that there was a gentleman rooming 
in the same room with me and another gentleman. This 
man's name was William Browne, and he seemed to have 
been in a fix in the night, but he is all right now. He was 
formerly from California. 

But, reader, I have given you a sketch ; let it sufiEice as a 
warning to you. Obey the command of God — more espe- 
cially the first commandment with promise : honor thy father 
and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which 
the Lord thy God giveth thee ; keep holy the Sabbath day 
and live holy ; deal justly with your neighbors, and strive to 
do good by establishing societies among your race of people ; 
be charitable to all mankind. By doing this you will shun 
numerous vices you may fall into by leaving it undone. 

A few days after, I was going down Leonard street, and I 
met a man that I knew. I said, "Hallo, Prince." He 
answered, " Hallo, Tom ! How long have you been here ?" I 
told him that I had been here some time. Knowing that the 
Fugitive Slave Law was still in force, and then seeing him, I 
concluded it was time for me to be leaving there. I took the 
cars and went to Boston, and after remaining there some 
time, there came some slaveholders to arrest a slave. His 



23 

name was William Craft. I armed myself on that occasion 
and went out to fight for him. I remained there about three 
weeks, and then went to New Bedford, and stayed there about 
three weeks, and, like a fox, I came right back to where j 
started from — Philadelphia, I got a situation on a freight 
barge, and the first morning of my cooking I drew a bucket of 
salt water and made coffee. The captain said, " Cook, what 
is the matter with the coffee ? Why," said he, " you have made 
it out of salt water !" " No," said I. " Well, now," he said, 
"taste it." I did so, and after tasting, I said, "Why, captain, 
somebody has put salt into it, for I made it out of fresh 
water." "Well, where did you get the water, then }" " I drew 
it from the side well." " Is not that salt ?" said he. " No, sir,' 
said I. " Well, then, draw a bucket and taste it," said he. So 
away I went and drew it. " Take a full drink," he said. Not 
knowing, I took a dipper and took a hearty swallow ; but I 
tell you I dropped it very quick, and it so amused the captain 
that he laughed heartily. I always knew the difference be- 
tween salt and fresh water after that time. 

I shall now pen a few lines of poetry. Although it is not 
refined, I hope you will look upon it as coming from a person 
that never had the privileges of an education. Being born a 
slave, all I can do is to venture. 

Slavery, thou cruel curse, 

Tolerated more than two hundred years, 

Corrupted by moral laws, 

Supported by kings and emperors. 

Thou has forced a thousand tears 

From mothers and fathers dear — 
Whilst hearts melted from fear; 

Hell only is thy peer. 

You flourished long enough, 

To cultivate the coin ; 
Farewell, old master, 

Your loss is our gain. 

None but the free 

Can enjoy themselves aright — 
None but the free 

Can serve the Lord indeed. 

Slavery hath made a code, 

Abridged the freeman's law; 
Reject the black, respect the white, 

This was always slavery's code. 



24 

Taney in his decision, 

Confirmed tliis mode ; 
riis cruel decision 

Supported slavery's code. 

My languishing body is at rest — 

Achings and pains are o'er; 
To be free is to be blessed ; 

Slavery, thou art no more. 

Your clinking chains are hushed, 

You cannot wear our lives away ; 
Toiling in the cotton and cane-bush, • 

Freedom now has her sway. 

And now, dear reader, I return to the place I left off at, 
which was concerning the coffee, made out of, or made with salt 
water, which I informed you I soon got tired of, and shortly 
after which, and whilst laying at Brooklyn, New York, there 
came an Irishman on board of the vessel and said to me : 
" Cook, come up to my house to-night ; we are going to have 
a dance." So I went up to dance with the Irish girls, and 
danced until my feet got in a perspiration, and then I took 
my boots off and took it barefooted, as I saw the girls doing 
the same. On the next day my feet were so swollen that I 
was not able to attend to my business for a week, and that put 
an end to my dancing. Thus I came to the conclusion that 
I would be a better man. 

I further concluded that slipping and sliding would not 
find a place of safety in the United States. I did not want 
to go to Canada, because it was so cold ; at least, from what 
I had heard, I had come to the belief that it was so cold I 
could not live there at all, for I had been taught to sing the 
old song: "Winter time, fodder-house; summer time, shady 
tree." And besides hearing such bad reports of starvation 
and knowing that I was poor, I concluded that I would go 
to California. Standing on the wharf one day and looking 
at a steamer that was going to California, the second pastry 
cook backed out and I agreed to take his place. The 
steamer's name was the North America. She sailed from 
New York, March 3, 185 1, and after being out on the ocean 
three days the steward began talking pretty rough to me. 
I was going to whip him or give him a chance to whip me, 
and he went forward and told the clerk. The clerk came 
and told me that the steward was an officer of the vessel 



25 

and that I must obey him. He pulled out his book and 
asked me to sign the articles. I told him no, but he said it 
was the rules of the ship that all seamen must sign the 
articles ; and so long as I did not sign them I was only a 
passenger, working my way out, and so they could not cuff 
me around as they did the others whenever they felt disposed 
so to do. 

There is no person knows what hard times the poor sailors 
have but those who go in vessels to traverse the briny 
ocean. One thing I know, the life is worse than some 
dogs fare in these United States. When we landed at 
Chagres I told the purser that I was going to California 
and I wanted him to pay me my money for my labor. I said 
to him, " Do you see anything green in my eye .''" But, 
however, I concluded that I was even, so I picked up a pil- 
low-case and put half a ham in it and two loaves of bread, 
and started over the side of the ship with it into a boat and 
went on shore. After I got ashore I met a Californian, and 
he asked me where I was going and where I came from. I 
told him that I came from the United States and that I was 
going to California, if I could get there, and that I had run 
away from the ship and had no money of any account. He 
put his hand into his pocket, gave me a ten-dollar gold piece, 
and told me " to keep out of the whisky shops and dance 
houses, and you will do well in that country." 

Now this was a white man, and there were seven colored 
men aboard the ship, and some of them had plenty of money, 
but none of them did anything towards helping me along at 
all. When I got up Chagres river my money was gone. I had 
no place to sleep and no money to pay for a sleeping place. 
I then went down on board of the boat, turned my coat- 
collar up and my hat down over my eyes. The next morning 
one of the passengers saw me and he said: "Have those 
colored boys done anything for you, or have they helped you 
any yet .-'" 1 said, "No, sir." "Well, why don't you go and 
ask them .'"' I said, " They know I have no money or any- 
thing, and as they do not give me anything or ask how I am 
doing, I am not going to ask them." I knew some of them 
had either read or heard the following words : " Whosoever 
hath this world's goods and meets his brother in need, and 



26 

shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwell- 
eth the love of God in him ?" He gave me a dollar and 
told me to go in and get my breakfast, I went in and got 
my breakfast and started for Panama about 4 o'clock in the 
afternoon, leaving the mules and two horses out all night. 
I went to the American Hotel and I asked the landlord if I 
could stop there. He said, " Yes," and the first man that 
got there from the boat was the man that gave me the dollar 
on board the boat to get my breakfast. His name was Mr. 
Agner. He said to me, " Clean my pants and bring me 
some water to wash my feet, and I will see that your bill is 
paid here." He then went to the landlord and said, "Give 
this man whatever he wants to eat and drink and I will pay 
it." Then the landlord turned to me and said, " I will give 
you seventy-five dollars a month if you will act as porter for 
me." I assured him that I would do so. The colored men I 
left behind, who came on the ship the same time, I met at 
the door. I said to them, " Give me your names, gentlemen ; 
also your baggage." Said they, " Get out ; where is the land- 
lord .-'" "Give me your baggage and just walk into the sit- 
ting-room." But they still refused to do so. I then called the 
attention of the landlord, who said, " Give your baggage to 
this man, for he is the porter, and he is the proper represen- 
tative to take care of it," which of course made me walk as 
though I owned all the house. You remember just the night 
before I had nowhere to lay my head ; and being raised from 
that situation to the porterage of one of the finest hotels in 
Panama, it was a large jump. Reader, do you not think I 
should have been grateful for such a great beneficent bene- 
factor ? How I should strive to render due gratitude unto 
Him. I should say with the poet — 

How careful then ought I to live, 

With what religious care, 
Who such a strict account must give 

For my behavior here. 

At supper time I rang the bell, and they all came down to 
supper, the passengers looking upon me with much astonish- 
ment. One of them, of dark hue, who had not treated me 
with the respect he ought to have done, said, " Hallo, Wil- 



27 

Hams, how is it that you have got to be porter here ?" This 
was clone to blandish me. I then thought it was my time to 
treat him with the same contempt that he had treated me 
with on board the boat. This you know was wrong. It was 
not doing as my Bible taught me. I once heard of a little girl 
who read her Bible, and gave proof that she was governed 
by its precepts. The facts were these : She had been to 
school. On her way home she met with a little girl who 
always made it a point to push her out of the path. This 
day it pleased her teacher to give Emma, for that was her 
name, a great many bunches of grapes, and on her way 
home, as usual, she came in contact with the other little girl, 
and she gave this same little girl some of them. Going home 
she told her mother concerning the grapes, and she said to 
her, "I think your- teacher was very kind to give you so 
many." She told her mother that that was not all she could 
tell her ; for she had given some to a little girl who always 
pushed her out of the path. 

I said to the man, "That is my business, sir, and not for 
you to know." They staid in the house about six days. Then 
they got a chance to take the old steamship Republic. 
■Henry Smith went on board as steward. One man of dark 
complexion among the crowd said, " I will speak to Mr. 
Smith to get you a situation on board." I said, "Thank 
you, sir." Mr. Smith came to me, falling back on his dig- 
nity, after he had been accosted about me. Speaking to me 
in a very high tone of voice and with authority, he said, " Mr. 
So-and-So," calling the gentleman by name, "has been 
talking to me about your wanting to go to California." Says 
he, " The rest of the boys have all been employed, but if you 
want to go I will give a billet, though the boys have been 
given wages, if you will work your passage." I paused a few 
moments. Seeing there were hundreds of people here want- 
ing to go and could not get a passage to California from this 
place, I soon reflected and accepted the billet, having an 
idea that I could do so much better if I could reach Califor- 
nia. After I had started and went on board of the ship with 
him and had been set to work, I remembered that I had a 
lot of Mr, Agner's clothes at the washerwoman's, and he 
knew not where they were, and he had been so good to me, 



28 

so I started to go ashore to take the clothes to him. I 
spoke to the second steward, and he gave me permission to 
go and do so. While on shore I met the head steward, Mr. 
Smith. He cursed me because I came ashore, and said I had 
no right there. It made no matter who gave me permission 
unless it came from him. He said, "You shall not go in the 
ship, so you may stay here." A few of the passengers gath- 
ered around and heard him talking to me and were going to 
club him. I went back and told Mr. Agner what happened, and 
he said, "Never mind ; it is all right. I will pay your passage 
out to California in the Jenny Lind." He paused for a few mo- 
ments, after which he wrote a note to Captain Hudson. The 
captain looked at the note, and then said, " I thought you 
went aboard in the steward's boat last night .'" " I did, sir," 
said I, "but the steward said I should not go in the ship- 
because I came ashore to get Mr. Agner's clothes that I had 
taken to the washerwoman's for him." "Then," says he, 
" you may go and wait on the doctor. Doctor," says he, 
"you take this man to wait on you," and away I went on 
board of the ship again. The steward came to me and said, 
"What are you doing on board here, sir.? Get ashore." I 
said, "I will not do it, sir." "Then," said he, "have you 
paid your fare.'" Said I, "That is none of your business." 
He then said, "All right; I will find out," and off he goes 
to the clerk. The clerk said to him, " This man is all right, 
steward, never mind him." The next morning early the stew- 
ard came to me and said, " Williams, come here, I want you 
to take charge of the first and second officers' state-rooms, 
and I want you to keep them clean." I saw the low cunning 
and dirty trick in giving me rooms that I could not make a 
cent off of them. I said to him, "I will not do it," and he 
said he would have me put in the coal-hole right away, and 
away he started off. The captain said, " What is the matter 
with you, Williams, that you cannot obey the steward.'" I 
said to him, "The steward did not want me to come on board 
here, and now he wants me to do a whole lot of work, and 
the doctor told me not to obey any one except the first officer, 
the clerk or himself." Then said the captain to me, "The 
steward is an officer of the ship, and if you have any time to 
do anything he asks you to do, do it." He then turned to the 




Page 2: 




Pacre 




Page 47. 




Page 47. 



31 

steward and said, " Steward, you have no control over this 
man ; he belongs to the doctor." I, therefore, never had 
any time to do anything for him, and I was a complete pet 
among the passengers. They gave me money and they also 
o-ave me six boxes of wine. One man of dark hue, who was 
steerage steward, whose name was William Nutter, from Bos- 
ton, came to me to buy this wine. He had no money, but 
the steward went his security. This was done to cheat me, 
but I was not aware of it. After we were out about six days 
the saloon waiter was taken sick and I had to doctor him. 
I noticed one day that the head steward, the second steward 
and the storekeeper were drinking a bottle of champagne 
wine. The head steward called me and gave me a glass. 
This he done to deceive me, and he said, at the same time, 
"I am very sorry that I did not hire you and put you on 
wages," and he said to me, " Won't you come down and 
wait on the captain's dinner, and I will fix it so that you can 
get a little money from the ship." I done so the next day. 
He said to me, " Williams, if you will take these state-rooms 
and take care of them you will be able to make something 
off of them, for I see you are the best man in the ship," and 
I. being inexperienced at the time and anxious to make all 
that I could, bit at the bait, but never ate it. I never made 
a cent for my time or labor, so you can see what a man that 
has made his escape from the blood-hounds hath to undergo 
to reach the shores of California, where he could be free and 
safe from all danger of being apprehended. Whilst in that 
country I saw some that I had to run away from, yet I would 
have you to understand that I had no running away to do in 
California. The boat was caught in a gale and we were four 
weeks getting from Panama to San Francisco. 

On the 15th day of May, 185 1, I took a little boat, called 
the" Jenny Lind, and came to Sacramento, and I then started 
to the mines. The first place I came to was called Negro 
Hills. I worked there some time and made nothing but my 
board. At that time there were no stages in the country 
at all, and we miners had to go on horseback and on foot. I 
made up my mind to leave this part of the diggings. I did 
so and started for Kelsey's Diggings. I packed my rocker 
that we washed the gold with, my prospect-pan, and my 



32 

pick and shovel, and led the way. I started over the hills 
and valleys, prospecting for gold, and my bed, when night 
came on, was under some cedar tree, and I had to pack my 
grub under my head to keep the wolves and coyotes from 
stealing it. We had no law in the country at that time and 
so we miners constituted a law for ourselves. I was one of 
the miners that was present on an occasion to try another 
miner for the crime of stealing ^50 from another. We put a 
rope around his neck and intended to frighten him, and he 
said if we let him down he would tell. So we let him down 
and he went and got the money. Had he not got the money, 
what the result would have been I am unable to tell the 
reader. One thing I am about to affirm, I would never have 
consented to have taken the man's life. I was the only col- 
ored man in the crowd, and it was left for me to pass my 
opinion, and I said, "If he gives up the money let him go," 
for I felt greatly opposed to taking the man's life ; yet in a 
body of men there are always different opinions, and I do not 
think the poor fellow would have had much lenity shown to 
him, it being thought a very dastardly trick for one miner to 
steal from another. 

Any man that made up his mind to go to the mines at that 
tinie, he must be a man that feared no noise, or else he had 
better stay at home, for the miners feared no noise at that 
time, it being a newly-settled country, with wild beasts and 
also wild people. I belonging to the party that believed in 
liberty, it made me a little wild also. Persons living in 
places where they have to be a law to themselves are, of 
course, nearly or quite as apt to resort to very stringent laws 
as the more sure remedy to lessen crime. Whether it be the 
fact or not, it requires thought, as time expounds all mira- 
cles, and it takes time to tell about that. However, the state 
of things is much better now in California than was the case 
on my arrival there. Many adventures have been made by 
persons from the States, colored and white. There are now 
instances on record where both classes have gathered con- 
siderable of this world's goods. Some are now enjoying the 
benefits of their labor, whilst others, who worked hard in 
the mines and have gathered a large portion of this world's 
goods and have had no advantage, neither will they ever 



33 

reap any advantage hereafter from their privations, although 
they have borne the burden in the heat of the day — collected 
the spoils ; but, ah, they have sown sparingly — they have 
sowed the good seed sparingly, I mean ; but ill-gotten means 
never stay long with the receiver. Some have plundered and 
robbed, perhaps I may say truthfully, murdered ; anyway, 
just so that I get — no matter about the remaining — just so I 
get my booty, I have never for a moment thought of wrong- 
ing any one out of their dues. That is what made me so bitter 
against slaveholders. By reading this book, ere this you are 
convinced that I have been bitter against such men. But for 
the Emancipation Proclamation I should be the same this 
day, although, like many others, I have been accused through 
life falsely. 

On the 15th day of May, a. d. 185 i, you have learned I 
arrived in the city of Sacramento. You have also learned 
that I worked in the gold mines called Nigger Hills. I worked 
there about six months, and seeing nothing could be made 
there I left and went to Kelsey's Diggings. I worked there 
about three months, with no better success. I then returned 
to the city of Sacramento. I there commenced carrying the 
hod, which I did for three months, at six dollars per day, 
after which I bought out the good-will and fixtures of a large 
restaurant, and kept it for the entertainment of the whites. 
Be it known that about that time there was a number of 
slaves brought to California by their masters, one of which 
was a woman, brought there by her master, who would not 
allow one man or men to go to his house. But I went there, 
taking a white man with me at the time, and took her away. 
In a few days her master comes to my establishment, bring- 
ing with him an officer, who presented a pistol at me, saying 
at the same time, " Williams, you must go and get that 
woman you stole from Mr. VVholeman or I will blow your 
brains out." "Very good, sir," says I, "come on," I lead- 
ing the way. Taking him direct into lawyer Zabriskie's 
office I alleged my complaint against him for pointing 
a six-shooter at me, and he was held for trial, which was 
given in my favor. Of course I retained her, and in one 
week after this woman left and went back to her master, 
telling him that I threatened to shoot him. His party get- 



34 

ting after me caused me to leave there, and on the boat ply- 
ing between Sacramento and San Francisco I was attacked 
by a party of Missourians and beaten very badly, and had to 
be rescued by the captain, after having run into the ladies' 
saloon. 

From thence I took the boat and went to Mexico. BVom 
Mexico I went to Guaymas, and there I was robbed by 
a woman, I seeing her when she committed the robbery 
whilst I was laying in bed. I arose in the morning, 
and, after having dressed myself, went to her room and 
knocked at the door. I told her I wanted her to give me my 
money. She soon went and brought her brother, who in- 
formed me, if I said that his sister robbed me he would cut 
my head off. I told him that I did not say so. He then 
told me that I must treat him. I had only $2.50. However, 
I treated him, and I was left without money, and I had to be 
out some three or four weeks without any means at all to 
depend upon. I at last got a chance to work my passage to 
Mazatlan, and on arriving there, without anything or any 
money, all I had to live on was a sixpence per day, and the 
way I procured that was, I in general begged it from the 
sailors. At this time I sold my coat, the only one I had got. 
Having but one shirt, I used to go to the shore and wash it, 
and lay there until it was dry. The bed I laid on was the 
ground. Often were the times when the police wanted to 
arrest me, but I would not consent, because I said to him, 
" The earth only is my bed, the canopy my covering, and 
often a rock my pillow." Thus you see how I got along so 
far. Be it known that I at this time had a chum, a white 
man. He and I agreed to ship and go to Talcahuana. We did 
so by shipping in a bark named the Calilena. The captain's 
name was Wilson, known then by the name of Bully Wil- 
son, from the fact that he was said to flog all the sailors he 
hired. I and my partner concluded that, as it only took two 
months to make the trip, we could make the voyage with 
him, as we said we could live with Old Sammy three months. 
On the voyage he flogged all hands except us. We con- 
cluded, as a matter of course, that our turn was next. Ac- 
cordingly, we fixed our mind in this way, that if he flogged 
one he must be man enough to flog both. At length he com- 



35 

menced with me, and my chum seconded the motion, and we 
had a free thing of it. In the melee I received a mark that 
I shall carry to my grave. However, we made port. The crew- 
was arraigned for mutiny, or, however, he discharged all the 
crew except me and my chum. Him he put in prison for 
mutiny and me he retained on board. I told him, after he 
had hired a Spanish crew, he had broke the articles of agree- 
ment, and he must discharge me. But he would not, saying 
that he could not do without me. Consequently, I that night 
ran away from the ship. As a matter of course he had to 
get a Spanish cook and leave. But before he left he saw 
the American Consul, and advised him, when I came in town, 
to have me arrested and tried, and, if found guilty, to make 
me serve out my time in the prison or chain-gang. Luckily, 
I could talk the Spanish language, and I gained the favor of 
the chief officer, and by his means my chum and I were re- 
leased from prison, and I reshipped in a ship named Kate 
Hayes for California, and after I had shipped on board of 
the above-named vessel, learning that I had shipped with 
another bad man, I did, as I always think of doing, making 
the best of a bad bargain. I found there was no error in the 
report, for no sooner than the first or second morning did I 
receive a partial chastisement from him. I bore with him 
until I was some five or six days out at sea, when, one morn- 
ing, I made up my mind that I was now safe to carry out my 
designs. Accordingly, he had been told by the mate to let 
me alone, but he would not. I turned on him one morning, 
and after fighting some time, I, after being called to by the 
mate, related my grievance to him, but still kept on fighting. 
The mate called the captain, who, after seeing the situation, 
said that we should fight it out. Finding him rather good 
for a knock down, I gathered him for a rough and tumble — 
as used to be the common way of fighting. After throwing 
him, I struck him whilst down. The captain then struck me 
with a main brace, and I ran and refused to fight ; he made 
me come back, for he had called all of the passengers to wit- 
ness the fight, and declared that we should fight it out on that 
line, as General Grant said. I went back and commenced the 
old field-fight. Reader, are you aware of the old field-fight 
what it is ? I mean butting; and I held him and butted him 



36 

until he sang an old song — which was murder. I tell you, 
after that I had peace. Arriving at San Francisco in the fall 
of '53, 1 there found civil law established. Then I concluded 
that I could remain, and not be molested by Copperheads 
or Southern sympathizers, as I had been before. I then 
concluded to make my abode there for awhile, and therefore 
I did. I returned back in the fall of '53, as you have learned. 
In '54 I was private watchman for James King of Wm., who 
was killed by Casey, who was afterwards hung by the Vigi- 
lance Committee for the crime in '55. I then returned to 
Sacramento, and came to the conclusion that I would get 
work on the Levee, but as no colored persons had ever 
worked there, it was determined that I should not, and after 
repeated interruptions, which resulted in suits at law, and me 
paying fines, having my property destroyed, etc., and at length 
fights, I proved my determination to them, and they gave me 
countenance. Since which time the way, through my deter- 
mination, hath been opened, and colored men can now work 
on the Levee, as much so as white men, and be respected in 
their doings. It must be acknowledged by all that the 
credit is due to me for opening the way successfully, by 
hardships endured by me, like a good soldier, having wit- 
nessed the bad usage of colored men on the Levee. This 
will be understood to have been done previous to the state 
of things as they now exist ; I am aware such is not the case 
now. I speak of the time when such law as existed in the 
State of Delaware, prior to the passage of the Civil Rights 
Bill, when the oath of a black man was objected to, and the 
court was bound to sustain the objection. Agreeable to the 
pending law, the colored people were not allowed their oath 
against a white man. Now we have rights of oath in the 
civil courts ; thank God for that. 

I then went to work in the Southern mines for a man, at 
^100 per month, and, after working for him some six months, 
he either raised a false report or caused one to be raised, in 
order to get a certain class of men to pursue me, to make 
me leave the place, to elude paying me my money, and 
he accomplished his design. Meeting him sometime 
after, and asking him for my money, he told me that were 
he me, he would . not want any money — that I should 



37 

be glad that I got off with my life, much less receiving any 
money. 

In '56 I returned to Sacramento again, and kept a junk- 
store on Second street. During the same year I sold out 
my store, and went to driving an express wagon, and remained 
sometime at that business. In '57 — I suppose the reader 
perhaps has heard concerning the Archy case, which was the 
arrest, and an attempt to remand the said Archy, he being, 
at that time, a slave. I was the first man in the fray, which 
occurred on the night of the attempted arrest, which was 
consummated, and they gained the suit; yet we succeeded in 
rescuing the man, and sent him to Vancouver Island, and he, 
Archy, is now a resident of Sacramento. Boarding in the 
house together, I, his fellow, who aided in the rescue, we 
have talked over the matter often. I feel proud of the few 
I have aided to escape from slavery. I know the ills of it, 
though I was young when I cast off the yoke of bondage 
from my shoulder, feeling myself a little larger. Thinking, 
with a number of my colored friends, that I would like to 
breathe purer air, I, with a number, emigrated to Vancouver 
Island, where we thought the air was more pure ; but on ar- 
riving there, finding the air somewhat tainted, I returned 
back to Sacramento, and went back to my old business, driv- 
ing an express wagon. I remained in this business until '59, 
when the Washoe excitement broke out. I caught the fever 
also and sold out, and all the money that I gained by sale I 
spent in provisions and started. I met persons returning 
who had started, and they informed me that I could never 
arrive at the place. I had determined to go to Virginia City, 
Washoe. I arrived at Strawberry Valley, in which there was 
a great many persons, who had arrived there before me, and 
it looked doubtful to any one. Yet having all I owned at 
stake, besides having borrowed some fifty dollars, and being 
broke, I resolved to trust in God and go and see the end or 
die in the attempt. There was a good bed of snow on the 
ground. Having two horses with me, I provided as best I 
could and lay down on the ground. In the morning I was 
covered with snow, and my horses also. After repeated en- 
treaties not to attempt it, I, with several others, started 
through the snow, and at times our horses were down and 



38 

up ; yet we crossed the summit and made the quickest trip on 
record. But it was through much fatigue. We encamped 
in the Valley of Genoa, proving by demonstration that a man 
cannot tell what he can endure until he puts his might into 
his will. After we recruited, we started for Virginia City, 
and after arriving there the people ran to meet us to purchase 
the produce which we had. Flour at that time was worth 
one dollar per pound. We disposed of what we had, I real- 
izing three hundred dollars for what flour I had. To the best 
of my judgment I disposed of the produce, and after being 
fully satisfied with my adventure, I tried to make as good an 
observation of the surroundings as I could, viewing with the 
utmost precaution all that came under my notice, which I will 
defer saying anything about at present. 

Reader, I have lived long; have traveled in numerous 
parts of the world ; have observed many things. I have 
learned things that would perhaps be of great service to 
many that this little treatise may fall into the hands of. I 
have learned to strive to live as peaceably as lieth in my 
power with all persons, to insure safety of person, for better 
is it to have the good favor of a dog than the ill-will of him, 
for I have learned, by ill-using him, that he will remember 
the abuse. I have learned by experience that kindness is 
never forgotten by the creature. He has been known to 
think of or remember his master so much or so long, that, 
when his master hath been borne to the grave, he hath fol- 
lowed the procession. He has carried his young master's 
toys and playthings, scratched a hole in the earth where the 
body was deposited, and put them in ; after being confined 
to prevent this recurring, he has moaned, in his way, until 
he has been released, and has then refused to eat, and finally 
has stretched himself on the grave, and there remained until 
he expired. Could it be thought for a moment that ill-usage 
ever caused him to do this } I answer, no ! I have learned 
this by experience. 

I have told you, ere this, concerning a gentleman who 
gave me a ten-dollar gold piece when in a strange country, 
out of money and friends, for all was strange to me. Think 
you I can ever forget the act of kindness that gentleman done 
me ? No. I could not think of ever forgetting it. I have met 



39 

several gentlemen that I always shall remember, and when, 
at my secret devotions, they appear foremost in my mind, 
oh, how bright they do appear ! It seems that I carry them 
to the haven of eternal repose. I also have learned that I 
must, if I expect friends, show myself friendly, for it is a 
fact uncontradicted successfully. I have learned, experimen- 
tally, if I act selfishly with persons I need expect nothing 
short of it. Believe me, the man of generosity receives the 
same. Says the teacher of Christianity, be kind and affec- 
tionate one to another, not begrudging ; that is not the way 
to receive generosity, by no means. Let this be remem- 
bered, dear reader, you may be in the situation that I have 
been in before now, surrounded by strangers, not one cent 
in your pocket, and not a place to lay your head ; you will 
then wish to come across a friend — one who will take you 
upon his own breast and take you to an inn, and say to the 
landlord : " Take care of this man or woman, and when I 
return I will pay you." Oh. what joy would spring up in 
your heart ! I have witnessed the like myself by my own 
experience, when in a strange land. Further, in my travels 
I have found out, to my satisfaction, that to command the 
respect of others or from others, one lesson I must first learn, 
that is to respect myself, which implies respect begetteth 
respect. For if the individuals first respect themselves 
others will respect them in turn. I have found the same in 
all my journeys through life. In all places that I have been 
in the rule holds to be the same. Reader, respect yourself, 
and you will be respected. You will live " that the world 
may be made better by you, and you will die regretted by 
all who endeavor to respect themselves." After I had made 
my escape from one of the American slaveholders, whose 
name I have given to you, I walked by the same rule I have 
endeavored to lay down here for you to govern yourself by, 
and I never give advice to anyone unless I first proved the 
same to be good for the receiver. Thus my rule is, first to 
be sure that I am right, then go ahead. It is the only sure 
road to the summit for all who wish to rise in life. 

I previously promised to tell you more about Washoe. 
After I had sold my flour, I thought that I would purchase 
some land there, but after inquiry, I found the customs did not 



40 

suit me, as I learned that shooting was the order of the 
day. If there would be a bargain effected with a party, and 
there arose any misunderstanding, redress appeared to be 
only had by shooting. I found that would not suit me at 
all. I then relinquished the thought of buying land in that 
place. I then went to Carson City, but ere I went there 
I returned to Sacramento, and made another trip, and was 
caught in a storm and lost all of my produce, but after ar- 
riving at Carson City I sold one horse and bought six lots, 
and then went to work by hand. This was done in '60. 
During the same year there was a flood in Sacramento, and 
I, at that time, owned a house there. That was washed 
away. After working by hand some two months and re- 
ceiving nothing, the customs being such, I returned to Cali- 
fornia, and remained there until '63, at my old business. I 
then went back to Carson City, and sold the property owned 
by me. I then went to Virginia City, and bought six lots, 
and went back in '65 and sold two lots, realizing ^2,500 for 
them. I then returned to California, and got a billet on 
board of the cars, and held it for two months. I was then 
taken sick, and so remained for eighteen months, and so I 
lost my billet. In the year 1867 I was appointed agent and 
collector by the trustees of A. M. E. Church in the city of Sac- 
ramento, and acknowledged by the then elder — now Bishop 
Ward — as agent, collector and superintendent of the above 
church, and I went forward and I built the church, yet, like 
all other great undertakings by man, the credit that was due 
me I did not get. The reader is aware of the fact that, when 
in public life, we cannot get the praise due us in our under- 
takings. I finished the church, receiving for my labor two 
dollars per day, traveling expenses, board and all paid me. 
I held the above office until '69, when I settled up and re- 
signed my situation. There was now a situation awaiting for 
me to accept — the agency of the building or collecting for 
and superintending the building of another A. M. E. church 
in San Francisco, on my return there, which I call my home. 
I thought, in this short treatise, I would give my experience, 
and the treatment which I have met with. I have never had 
the privilege of attending school, being born a slave, and not 
having the chance of education. Having been informed, in 



41 

part, what education would do for me, how I have wished 
to be young again, and have the privilege of going to school ! 
I have been told a great deal about its effects. It is said by- 
one, I am informed, that the term education, when employed 
in its primitive sense and literal signification, means the draw- 
ing out or development of the human faculties. When we 
look on a child we perceive at once that, besides corporeal 
organs and powers, he has a spiritual nature, in which these 
organs act themselves, but not an unmeaning activity. We 
see that this little being has intelligence, sensibility and will. 
Such powers exist in early infancy but as germs, which are 
destined, however, to burst forth, and which, like the vegetat- 
ing powers of the seed that we have planted, are ready to 
be directed and controlled by us almost at our will. As we 
can train to a healthy and graceful maturity the young plant, 
which, if neglected, would have proved unsightly and sterile, 
so we can train up in the way he should go that child, who, . 
if left to himself, would have almost been vicious and igno- 
rant. It is the peculiar liability and impressibihty of this 
early period of life that gives it such claims on the educator, 
whether his intellectual or his moral powers can hold inter- 
course with or act upon the world without, except through 
the material organs. And, in our present state these organs are 
also necessary to the soul, even in its more spiritual operations, 
and they weigh it down to imbecility whenever they become 
greatly diseased or enfeebled. When habit has once fastened 
itself on the intellect or the heart, and the heart's appeals 
and influences are comparatively powerless, in whatever de- 
gree, then it may be our interest and duty to promote the 
welfare of our fellow-creatures, and especially of our own 
children, in some degree. Thus it becomes important 
that we lose no portion of that precious seed-time of their 
lives. Hardly any season is too early for the culture of 
this soil, and if it would be reckoned the height of guilt to 
refuse food or raiment of the body to a helpless little one, 
what must be that cruel neglect which leaves its nobler nature 
to pine, and finally to perish for lack of knowledge .'' Educa- 
ted, in one sense, this child will be for weal or woe. 

For nature's crescent does not grow alone 
In thews and bulks, but as this temple wears, 
The inward service of the mind and soul 
Grows wide withal. 



42 

It is for the parent or guardian to decide what character 
this development shall take. The power of education we 
are not disposed to overrate. It has sometimes been de- 
scribed, even by wise men, as an all-prevailing element or 
agent, which can turn the minds of children as easily this 
way or that as water itself, and before which all original 
differences may be made to disappear. It seems to us that 
a slight acquaintance with children is sufficient to refute 
this story or theory. Even when reared in the same family, 
and subject to the same course of physical and moral training, 
they exhibit, amid a general resemblance in manners and 
principles, the greatest diversity of endowments and dispo- 
sitions. It is evidently not to be desired that all men and 
women should be cast in the same intellectual more than in 
the same corporeal mould. And hence, though compounded 
of the same primitive elements, these elements have been so 
variously mingled and combined, that each individual has 
his own peculiar and indestructible nature, as well as his own 
sphere of action, and thus every place and calling can be 
filled. As this variety then exists, and never can be entirely 
effaced, it ought to be respected in education ; but does it 
follow that the work of education is, therefore, slight or un- 
important, while we are bound to take the individual as he 
is ? And having his peculiar type of character and measure 
of capacity to keep these ever in view, is there not still a 
vast work to be accomplished ? It is the business of educa- 
tion to watch the dormant powers, and foster their healthy and 
well-proportioned growth ; restraining and repressing where 
their natural activity is too great and stimulating where 
they are too feeble. To respect each one's individuality is 
not only consistent with this great work, but is indispensable 
to its highest success. Doing so, we can effect vast changes 
and improvements in character ; the sluggish we may not be 
able to inspire with great vivacity, nor subdue the ardent or 
enthusiastic to the tone and calm of a calculating spirit, 
but we can arrest the dangerous tendencies in each. We 
can correct mental obliquities and distortions, and cultivate 
a healthy and self-improving power. We can study the pur- 
poses of the Creator in framing such a mind, and strive wise- 
ly as well as unceasingly to fulfill those purposes. In a word. 



43 

we can labor to rear this child, yet without fixed character or 
compacted energies, to the stature of a perfect man or 
woman. As one star is different from another star in mag- 
nitude and splendor, though each in its appointed place is 
equally perfect, so, in the intellectual firmament, one mind 
may outshine another, and yet both alike be perfect in their 
sphere, and in fulfilling the missions assigned by God. Mil- 
ton has called that a complete and generous education 
which fits a man to perform justly, skillfully and magnani- 
mously all the offices, both private and public, of peace and 
of war. It is evident that such an education can be enjoyed 
only by a few, and that, though enjoyed by all, it would be- 
stow on but a limited number the lofty capacities indicated 
by the great poet. A vast proportion of the walks of human 
life are humble and sheltered. Let us be grateful, however, 
that, while in such walks we escape the fiery trials which 
await those who tread the high places of earth, they still 
afford scope and opportunity for the exercise of the most 
manly and generous qualities. He may be great both men- 
tally and intellectually who has filled no distinguished office, 
either of peace or war. Let it rather be our object, then, 
in rearing the young, to form a perfect character, to build 
up a spirit of which all must say, as was said of Brutus by 
Anthony : 

His life was gentle, and the elements 

So mixed in him, that nature might stand up 

And say to all the world, this was a man. 

I have here narrated a few simple facts of what some men 
of literary attainments call education, and by me, perusing 
as well as I could, it gives me a faint glimpse of what I 
might have been if I had been sent to school when young ; 
and by perusing this little treatise you may consider, as I 
have, that no one can tell what they can do, if they only have 
a mind. As we often say, where there is a will to do there 
always is a way to perform. I am of opinion that such lan- 
guage is nothing but fact, incontrovertible, successfully. Let 
some who are in the habit of saying, " I cannot," use the 
word, " I will try ;" make the effort, and I assure you that 
you will succeed in all laudable endeavors. I once learned 
of a certain lady who hired a cook who was smart, and she 



44 

would always get her work done, and had time to sit, walk 
out or sew in the afternoon. At length she left her place, 
and the lady had to employ another, who was not so smart, 
and, as is usually the custom, the lady said to the servant, 
" How is it you are always at work and never have any time ? 
Why, Biddy always was done and out walking, or sitting 
sewing, or resting herself." The girl was anxious to know 
how she could do it. "Oh," said the lady, "perseverance." 
The next day the family had apple-dumplings for dinner ; 
there were eight left ; the girl sat down to her dinner, and 
ate them all. Towards evening, the lady, feeling as though 
she would like to have an apple-dumpling, said to Biddy, 
"Please give me one of the apple-dumplings that was left 
from dinner." " Oh," she said, " I ate them." " Why," said 
the lady, "did you eat all of them ?" "Yes, madam," said 
Biddy. " How did you manage to eat them all .?" " Oh," said 
Biddy, "perseverance, madam, perseverance. Is not that the 
way you told me ? The girl done the work and rested or sewed 
or walked out in the afternoon. I ate the dumplings — only 
eight — and I have rested since then, and I think, if I continue 
persevering, I will just do like the other girl did, after awhile." 
It is generally the case in whatever we undertake ; if we 
strive to we can do it by perseverance. Allow me to say to 
you, reader, let your motto be, " Press on." If misfortune 
assail, press on ; the rougher the way the shorter — press on. 
If the sky is cloudy, it will be clear sometime — press on. 
If you cannot get far, go on as far as you can, thinking 
"man's extremity is God's opportunity." He will make use 
of it, and bring you out in a way that you are not aware of, 
and, as the poet says, when viewing his forlorn situation, 

" Ten thousand foes around my feet, 

Not one shall hold me fast ; 
Through every trouble I shall meet 

I shall be safe at last." 

Take the watchword and go on. I am telling you to do 
what you have already learned that I have done. I have 
been without money, and I have been cast out in a strange 
land amongst strangers, without means. I kept on ; I strove 
to keep my head above the current. I did so. I have done 
all in my power to get an honest living. I have been as 



45 

charitable as it has been in my power. Doing all the good 
I could, and the Lord has blessed my efforts, and I am still 
living, and although I have been near the water's edge, the 
water has never overflowed me ; and I am still floating 
on the current with my head above water. I hope, my 
reader, that you will take fresh courage and press on, as the 
day will soon break. We live in an age of progress — in 
the same age we were created. In the way the world was 
created, progress was the order of the creation. I am con- 
vinced of the fact and am led to believe that many of my 
readers are convinced of the same thing. How thankful I am 
that I am no worse off than I am ; although I have been very 
ungrateful to my Heavenly Father, yet he has favored me, and 
had I been dealt with according to my just deserts I should 
be this day crying for water to cool my tongue. I think all 
with me will say the same, if they look back upon their past 
lives. We may not be what we should be, but having such 
a kind Benefactor we always receive more than we are 
worthy to receive. I always have to acknowledge this to 
be the manner that I am treated by my Heavenly Creator. 
My dear readers, I feel that all of my new imperfections 
will be overlooked by your kindness, more especially 
when you think of the chances that I have been de- 
prived of by my once-called master. The time I should 
have been attending school I had to be dodging and run- 
ning to keep out of the way from him, and sleep like a 
cat, as I before told you, with one eye open and the other 
eye not shut, and be ever ready to run or walk further 
than he or his party, or be captured. I have told you of 
many narrow chances of escape, and if you had seen me 
some of the times you would certainly have said that he is 
gone this time, for they certainly thought they had me, and I 
thought so too. But out of all the snares the Lord brought 
me, and was bringing me at all times in a way that I knew not 
of ; and I am glad such has been my case. Had I been left 
to my own free will, I would perhaps have been done for long 
ago, and been in abject, or worse than abject slavery again. 
Let us, the colored people, begin — we that never have be- 
gun — now commence to live, that the world may be made 
better by us. In the course of seven or more years we have 



46 

had a great deal done. Consider our case, dear reader, and 
just think of our situation, being that of American slavery 
for over two hundred years. Had the Anglo-Saxon race been 
held in bondage the same length of time, underwent the same 
hardships, the same privations, been deprived of their privi- 
leges, knocked and cuffed about, husbands and wives separated, 
and children and parents, which will take almost the same 
length of time to bring them together again — nay, may I say, 
they never can be brought together again. There are chil- 
dren of one parent who never more will know each other, per- 
haps working in the same field together, yet they were sepa- 
rated when they were so young they could never know or re- 
member each other. Think of it, the Anglo-Saxon race, had 
they been under the same yoke, would they this day be any 
better than we are .'' Would they be any more intelligent 
than we .'' Would they be any more civilized, any more 
Christianized than we are } I am aware that we are in the 
woods, I am aware that we are in the wilderness ! But, ah ! 
whose fault is it ? Is it because we could not learn ? Is it 
because we had the opportunity and would not learn ? Is it 
because we idled our time away and would not work .'' Nay, 
we were beat. Some of our people have been whipped to 
death, some have been tortured in other ways. We have done 
nothing worthy of such treatment. We have always acted 
better than we have been treated. We have always acted 
better than the Anglo-Saxon would have acted ; yet we need 
not tell them. They know ; here and there one of them will 
confess. All of our bad deeds we have learned from him. 
Tell me of one thing done by a colored man that the same 
has not been done by a white man ! I know of not even one, 
from the least to the greatest crime on record. If I could 
only think of a crime that my race had been guilty of doing 
that the Anglo-Saxon had not done, I would mention it. But 
memory fails to remember. I conclude thus, that nothing 
that ever the colored man ever did, good or bad, but the 
white man had done before him. I mean, since the colored 
man was first brought to this country by him, the white man, 
and used in the manner he has been by him. And then he, 
the white man, having the daring impudence to say that "We 
have done your race good." It is now evident that the two 



47 

races cannot live together. This is a white man's government. 
A " colored man has no rights that a white man is bound to 
respect." Father, forgive them, for they are not aware of 
what they are saying. I mean, they are not aware of the ex- 
tent or import of what other people infer from what they say. 

On or about the year a. d. 1838, I gave Mr. William Hol- 
lingsworth leg-bail for security, and in the year 1869 I 
went to redeem my bail. I found the slave-mart done away 
with ; I also found the jail, called by and after the fiend in 
human shape at that time, Woodforks. What shape he is in 
now I cannot tell, and am not anxious to know. But I find 
that there is a fine dwelling erected on the site of the old 
prison, and the old whipping-post rotted down — grass all 
growing in the place. What an alteration has taken place 
since I used to visit the old place ! I am very fond of going 
there looking at the scenery of* the place. It does me good. 
None but a wonder-working God could have accomplished 
all this in the manner that this was done. Well may it be said 
that this is an age of wonders. Well may it be said that 
the world is changing, and we are changing with it, and 
I hope that it will keep on undergoing a change until it is 
made what the Creator will have it. It will then be right, 
for whatever He doeth is right, and whenever He doeth it is 
the time it should be done. Thus He has commenced. All 
that is essential for us to do, is to stand still and see the sal- 
vation of God. I do not mean by saying stand still, to do 
nothing. That is not my meaning. I mean to do and try to 
act right ; live godly in Christ Jesus. Suffer persecution ; 
fight the good fight — I mean for you to lay hold on eternal 
life — that is what I mean by standing still. And when you 
are standing still and running at the same time, you are run- 
ning so as to obtain — you are walking and not fainting. I 
counsel strong on this point. I mean for you to own your 
name in the gathering morning, when burning worlds shall 
dash together; when the scattered elements shall be col- 
lected ; that is the time I mean. I have thought that at this 
time it would be very proper to quote the Mission of the 
Flowers, penned by Mrs. F. A. Harper : 

" In a lovely garden, filled with fair and blooming flowers, 
stood a beautiful rose-bush or tree ; it was the centre of at- 



48 

traction, and won the admiration of every eye. Its beau- 
teous flowers were sought to adorn the bridal wreath and deck 
the funeral bier. It was a thing of joy, and its earth- mission 
was a blessing. Kind hands plucked its flowers to gladden 
the chamber of sickness, and to adorn the prisoner's cell. 
Young girls wore it amidst their clustering curls, and grave 
brows relaxed when they gazed upon their wondrous beauty. 
Now, the rose was very kind and generous-hearted, and see- 
ing how much joy she dispensed, wished that every flower 
could only be a rose, and like herself, have the privilege of 
giving joy to the children of men. While she thus mused, a 
bright and lovely spirit approached her, and said, ' I know 
thy wishes and will grant thy desires. Thou shalt have pow- 
er to change every flower in the garden to thine own likeness. 
When the soft winds come wooing thy fairest buds and flow- 
ers, thou shalt breathe gentfy on thy sister plants, and be- 
neath thy influence they shall change to beautiful roses.' The 
rose-tree bowed her head in silent gratitude to the gentle 
being who had granted her this wondrous power. All night 
the stars bent over her, from their holy homes, but she 
scarcely heeded their vigils. The gentle dews nestled in her 
arms, and kissed the cheeks of her daughters, but she hardly 
noticed them. She was waiting for the soft airs to awaken 
and seek her charming abode. At length the gentle airs 
greeted her, and she hailed them with a joyous welcome, and 
then commenced the work of change. The first object which met 
her vision was a tulip, superbly arrayed in scarlet and gold. 
When she was aware of the intention of her neighbor, her 
cheeks flamed, her eyes flashed indignantly, and she haugh- 
tily refused to change her proud robes for the garb the rose- 
tree had prepared for her, but she could not resist the spell 
that was upon her, and she passively permitted the garments 
of the rose to enfold her yielding limbs. The verbenas saw 
the change that had fallen upon the tulip, and, dreading that 
a similar fate awaited them, crept closely to the ground, 
and while tears gathered in their eyes, they felt a change 
pass through their sensitive frames, and instead of gentle 
verbenas they were blushing roses. She breathed upon the 
sleeping poppies, and a deeper slumber fell upon their senses, 
and when they awoke they, too, had changed to bright and 



49 

ft 

beautiful roses. The heliotrope read her fate in the lot of 
her sisters, and bowing her fair head in silent sorrow, grace- 
fully submitted to her unwelcome destiny. The violets, 
whose mission was to herald the approach of spring, were 
averse to losing their identity. Surely, said they, we have 
a mission as well as the rose ; but with heavy hearts they saw 
themselves changed, like their sister plants. The snowdrop 
drew around her her robes of virgin white ; she would not 
willingly exchange them for the most brilliant attire that 
ever decked a flower's form. To her they were the emblems 
of purity and innocence, but the rose-tree breathed upon 
her, and, with a bitter sob, she reluctantly consented to the 
change. The dahlias lifted their heads proudly and defiantly ; 
they dreaded the change, but scorned submission. They 
loved the fading year, and wished to spread around his dying 
couch their brightest, fairest flowers ; but vainly they 
struggled ; the doom was upon them, and they could not es- 
cape. A modest lily that grew near the rose shrank instinc- 
tively from her, but it was in vain, and with tearful eyes and 
trembling limbs she yielded, while a quiver of agony con- 
vulsed her frame. The marigold sighed submissively, and 
made no remonstrance. The garden pinks grew careless, and 
submitted without a murmur, while other flowers, less fra- 
grant or less fair, paled with sorrow, or reddened with anger. 
But the spell of the rose-tree was upon them, and every 
flower was changed by her power, and that once beautiful 
garden was overrun with roses. The garden had changed, 
but that variety which had lent it so much beauty was gone 
and men grew tired of roses, for they were everywhere. 
The smallest violet, peeping faintly from its bed, would have 
been welcome. The humblest primrose would have been 
hailed with delight. Even a dandelion would have been a 
harbinger of joy. When the rose-tree saw that the children 
of men were dissatisfied with the change she had made, her 
heart grew sad within her, and she wished the power had 
never been given her to change her sister plants to roses. 
And tears came into her eyes as she mused, when suddenly a 
rough wind shook her drooping form and she opened her 
eyes, and found that she had only been dreaming. But an 
important lesson had been taught. She had learned to re- 



50 

spect the individuality of her sister flowers, and she began 
to see that they as well as herself had their own missions. 
Some to gladden the eye with their loveliness and thrill 
the soul with delight ; some to transmit fragrance to the air; 
others to breathe a refining influence upon the world ; some 
had power to lull the aching brow and soothe the weary 
heart and brain in forgetfulness ; and of those whose mission 
she did not understand, she wisely concluded there must be 
some object in their creation, and resolved to be true to her 
own earth-mission, and lay her fairest buds and flowers upon 
the altars of love and truth," 

In conclusion, I have crossed the ocean some four times. 
Going to California and returning by the Chagres river, the 
scenery is very beautiful, and pays the traveler for his trou- 
ble and expense. In coming back, in 1869, I came across 
the plains on the railroad, which is a splendid road — a grand 
scene to witness : having an opportunity of seeing wild 
beasts and the wonderful characteristics of human nature. 



Sacramento, 



In 1869 I was in Washington, and present when Senator 
Revels was sworn in as a United States Senator. In 1870 
I was in Philadelphia, and walked in the first procession of 
the celebration of the passage of the Fifteenth Amendment. 
On March 31st, three days after, about seven o'clock in the 
evening, I was walking up Second street, near Market. As 
I was crossing the street, I was attacked by three white 
rowdies. One said : " Get out of the way, you damned 
black Fifteenth Amendment," and at the same time striking 
at me and missing me, when I ran into a store, and the store- 
keeper asked me what was the matter, and I said, " A lot of 
rowdies are after me ; " and he told me to go out. I said, 
" No ; there is rowdies after me ;" and he said, " Go out, go 
out. I don't care a damn, I am not going to have them 
break up the things in my store." And with that he shoved 
me out, and as he shoved me out, one of them struck me 
with a slung-shot near the corner of the eye. I, having a 
hickory cane in my hand, at the same time struck one of the 
parties and felled him to the ground. Then I broke and 
ran and cried, " Watch ! watch ! " I met a policeman, and 
told him there was a lot of rowdies after me, and asked him 
to go with me and arrest them. We went back, and found 
the man that I had struck, up a little alley, bleeding. The 
officer asked him what was the matter, and he said that he 
did not know. The officer asked him who struck him, and 
he answered, " I don't know." I spoke up that I struck 
him — "that is who struck you." Says the officer, "What 
did this colored man strike you for."*" He said, "I don't 
know, sir." One of his companions was standing by, and 
he stepped up to me and said, " Who struck you ? " I said, 
" You did, with that slung-shot you have in your pocket." 
He said, "No, sir; I did not do any such a thing." 
I said, " Yes, you did." A very respectable merchant 
51 



52 

stepped up and said, " Officer, I was in the act of 
crossing the street and saw the whole affray. This colored 
man was coming along peaceably and these fellows attacked 
him. I halted on the corner and saw this fellow strike him, 
and then he ran around the corner and comes back and asks 
who struck him." I said to the officer, "Arrest them and 
take them to the watch-house." The officer stepped up to me 
softly and said, "Step here ; I want to speak to you a minute. 
You gave them just as good as they sent, and you have hurt 
him more than they have hurt you, and I would not have 
them arrested, for it might cost you something, and I wouldn't 
like to see you pay anything out, for I know they were in 
fault." This the officer done, pulling the wool over my eyes, 
I not knowing at the time what it was done for. When I 
came to find out, to my great surprise, they were all Secesh 
Democrats, well-met fellows together. Therefore, reader, 
you can see the result of appointing such men as peace 
officers. In a few days afterwards I went to New York on 
some business. Whilst walking up Battery street, I saw an 
office and a sign of broking and shipping, with a great deal 
of gold and silver in the window. I went in and asked, 
saying, "Mister, will you be kind enough to tell me where 
to go to buy a ticket for California .-' " He answered, " I 
will sell you a ticket for California." I asked, " Is this the 
regular ticket-office for California.-' " He said, "Yes." He 
asked if I belonged in California. I said, " Yes." He said, 
"I thought you was a stranger." At that time I had on a 
gold watch and chain. He stepped up to me, taking hold of 
the chain, saying, " What a pretty chain ! Where did you 
get it.-'" I answered, "In California." He said that he 
would like to buy the chain. I told him that I would not 
sell the chain without the watch. He asked to see the 
watch. I let him see it, and he said, "I will buy them 
both. What will you take for them ?" As I was all ready 
for a trade, I thought that I had struck a green hand, and 
thinking that I had a chance to make my passage clear, I 
put a price on of forty dollars more than the watch or chain 
cost me. He answered, "All right; that is cheap enough." 
And he wanted to take it out to see if it was gold, and if so 
he would buy it. He turned back and said, " Show me how 



53 

to take off the chain ; I want to weigh it, to see how much it 
weighs." I took the chain off and handed it to him. He 
said, "Give me the watch, too." I gave it to him. At the 
same time his partner called my attention, saying, " If we 
buy your watch you will buy a ticket of us," showing me 
the picture of a ship, and remarking, " What a pretty-built 
ship !" It was while I was speaking to him, his partner put 
a bogus watch on the chain, handing it to me, saying, " Your 
watch is only worth twenty shillings, but I will give you 
twenty-five dollars for the chain." I asked him if he thought 
I stole the watch. And as I went to put it in my pocket I 
noticed it was not my watch. I said, " Will you please, sir, 
to give me my watch ; this is not my watch." He said, 
" That is your watch." I said, " It is not, sir." He said, 
'• You had better say that I stole your watch." I said, " I 
don't say that, but this is not my watch." He said, " If you 
say that I stole it I will break your head." I went to some 
white gentlemen who knew my watch. They said, "This is 
the same chain, but this is not the watch that I have seen. 
You come with me, and we will get a detective after him." 
We did so and had him arrested. By the time I got to the 
office he had about twenty men, that I had never seen, to 
swear that the watch that he gave me was the same one that 
I showed him. I supposed them to be his associates, as 
they fell in, one by one, as we went to the office. There was 
so much whispering between the officers and the Judge to 
the prisoner, that I came to the conclusion that they were 
all looking through one telescope. The Judge said, " Mr. 
Williams, I will prosecute them. I will put them through, 
if you say so." Right before the prisoner I said, "No, 
sir ; I see enough. If I fool here I will have no money 
to get home with." Out I walked, and the officer followed 
me out, saying, " Mr. Williams, I have arrested this man, 
and I want you to prosecute him." I said, " No, sir ; do 
you suppose I am fool enough to swear against all of those 
men to have them outswear me, and no one to corroborate 
my statement, and bring me in for the costs .?" And away I 
went to my boarding-house, taking my carpet- sack, and 
started for Philadelphia. When I got down to Fulton Market 
I met a very nice gentleman, looking like a rich merchant. 



54 

and he said, " How do you do, sir ? Can you tell me what 
time the boat starts ? " I said, " I don't know, sir ; 
I think about four o'clock, by what I have understood." 
He asked me which way I w^as going. East or West ? 
I said, "I am going to Philadelphia." He said, "There is 
just where I am going. We have plenty of time. We have 
a half of an hour yet. Come and take a drink!" "Thank 
you, sir ; I don't drink." At the same time a man came up 
behind me, and struck me on the back of the leg, and the 
man I was speaking to said : " There, that man has got your 
pocket-book." I said, " It is not mine." He said, " Just say 
so, and we will make some money out of it." Reader, I had 
heard of the drop-game. As I had just been fooled, I came 
to the conclusion to see it out. This nice gentleman that 
looked like a merchant, called out, " Say, sir, you have got 
this man's pocket-book. I saw you when you picked it up." 
The man said, " I found it down there, and if I give it up he 
will not give me anything for finding it." Then this nice 
gentleman said, " How much do you want for finding it ? " 
He answered, " Twenty dollars," and pretended to be a-crying. 
This gentleman, taking out a greenback, saying to me, 
" Have you got any gold .-* Give him a ten-dollar gold-piece." 
I put my finger to my eye, and asked, " Do you see anything 
green ? " And away I went aboard the boat for Philadelphia. 
June 3, 1870, I left Philadelphia, the fourth time, for Califor- 
nia, and landed in Sacramento on the eleventh of the next 
month, and went to my legitimate business, whitewashing. I 
worked at that three or four weeks, when I was employed by 
the trustees of the Siloam Baptist Church, as an agent to 
collect money to pay off the indebtedness of that church. As 
a general thing, amongst the people of color in their churches, 
you can never do enough for them, or satisfy them ; so, after 
collecting some seven or eight months, I resigned my office 
as a collector. 

Not unto us, Lord, not unto us. 

But unto Thy Name give glory, 

For Thy mercy and for Thy truth. 

I love the Lord, because he heard my voice. 

After I resigned my office as a collector, I opened a store 
on J street, between Ninth and Tenth, for groceries, fruit and 



55 

poultry. This was in 1871. Reader, observe closely as you 
read. A colored lady that I had bden acquainted with in the 
Eastern States wanted me to assist her to come to California, 
and I did so. After «he arrived in California, she asked me 
to loan her money, to assist her to bring her mother out, and 
I did so. After her mother arrived here, she asked me to 
lend her some money to furnish a house, and I also did that. 
She asked me to go to Mr. Wingate, and stand security for 
her house-rent. I did that. When the rent was due she did 
not have the money. Mr. Wingate called at my store, and I 
paid it. Whilst I remained her security, whenever he called 
I paid the bill. Whenever she wanted groceries, she came 
to my store, money or no money, and she got whatever she 
wanted. This lady and myself were the best of friends. I 
was in the habit of going to her house two or three times 
daily. She would go with me anywhere and everywhere, 
when I requested her, and would do anything for me that 
laid in her power. 

I was there at her house one afternoon in February, 1872, 
and leaving at five o'clock to go home, she followed me to the 
door, and remarked that she felt unwell, and would like some 
lager beer, and I called a young man that was present at the 
house, and asked him if he would go, and get some beer for 
Lizey. I gave her ten cents, and she and Alfred Linchcomb 
went in the house, bidding me good-afternoon, as I supposed, 
to get the pitcher for the beer. I come down K street to 
Ninth street ; my attention was drawn by two white gentle- 
men talking politics. After standing there awhile, the bell 
rang for six o'clock. I went to the Golden Eagle barber 
shop, and called Mr. Christopher, saying, " Are you going 
home to supper? " And we both went down Sixth street to- 
gether. It was raining at that time. I raised my umbrella, and 
we went together as far as O street. I went to my house, and 
he went home. After arriving at home, I ate my supper, 
and a lady came in about seven o'clock, and we had a little 
fun. Afterwards I laid down on the lounge, and went to 
sleep, to the best of my knowledge. The lady of the house 
called me, -about ten o'clock, to get up from the lounge and 
go to bed. This was a dark, rainy, stormy night. The lady 
of the house was sewing, and the house shook so by the 



56 

wind that she had not gone to bed yet, being troubled with 
the cramp. About one or half-past one o'clock, I was aroused 
by her saying that some one was at the door, asking for Wil- 
liams. I told her to ask what was wanted. The man said, 
"Tell Mr, Williams that Miss Thompson's house is burnt 
down." I asked, " What Miss Thompson ?" He answered, 
"Your Miss Thompson, on Eighth street." I said, " Where 
is she.' " He said that she was burnt, too, I said, " My God, 
you don't say so } Come in, until I get my clothes on." 
Then we went to Mr. Slaughter's, and called two other gen- 
tlemen, friends of Mi^ Thompson, to go with us to the 
house. Reader, take notice and observe closely as you read. 
That day, at the coroner's jury, there were several examined, 
and I among the rest, and there was nothing found against 
me. They asked me who was at the house. I answered that 
I left Alfred Linchcomb there. "Where is he now?" No 
one had seen him that day that was then present. An officer, 
accompanied by some colored men, went to find him. and 
when they brought Linchcomb in, the first thing that I 
noticed was that he had changed his pantaloons, and the 
second thing that I noticed was the rings on his fingers, that 
looked just like hers ; the third thing I noticed was, he hung 
his head on the palm of his hand, and could not hold it up ; 
the fourth thing I noticed, he said that Fred Washington wss 
with him, and Fred Washington had gone to San Francisco 
the previous day, for I shook hands with him just as he went 
on the boat ; the next thing I noticed, he said that there was 
a gentleman with him by the name of Smith, and the officers 
brought all the colored men they could find in the city, by the 
name of Smith. But when they came, none appeared to be 
the man. So you see there was a lie somewhere. My humble 
opinion and my belief is, that there was no one with him but 
the devil. The officers, seeing his guilt, arrested him. Then 
his colleagues and my enemies tried to throw it on me to 
clear him, more especially the low and degraded class of 
colored people, standing on the corners, and holding caucuses, 
trying to poison the minds of every well-known respectable 
white citizen. I was then arrested, and falsely imprisoned, 
slandered falsely by the newspapers throughout the State, 
and throughout the United States, and held fourteen days in 



57 

jail in this manner, yet being innocent. I was not alarmed, 
for I trusted in God, as the three Hebrew children did in the 
fiery furnace. When I prayed, they said that I was harden- 
ing. I said that if the word of God was hardening, then they 
may be hardened by the word of God, 

Then well may I say, in the (larden of Eden 

There was beauty. 
In the Garden of Eden Beauty woke 

And spoke to Beauty. 
And from the word there was beauty. 
In the Garden of Eden Beauty became 

A living mortal. 

When it came to trial, there was nothing against me, and I 
was discharged, and could not receive any reward as damage 
for false imprisonment, when I had proved that I was home 
and in bed, and had not been out of the house that night. 
Reader, is that a just law, that a man should be arrested in 
that manner and held for fourteen days on suspicion ? Away 
with such abominable law as that ! I hope to see the day 
when some good, honest-hearted man will be elected to the 
Legislature, who will stand up and use all of his own force 
and endeavor to make laws that no innocent man shall be ar- 
rested and held over twenty-four hours on suspicion ; and 
furthermore, he should not be published in the papers until 
he is known to be guilty, and if such things should be done, 
the State and County should be held liable for heavy damages. 
In February, 1872, I sold out my store. I went to work at 
the Central Pacific R. R. shops, whitewashing, and acting as 
foreman of the whitewashers. In August, whilst at my em- 
ployment, I was arrested, charged with a crime that I knew 
nothing about — taken the second time, charged with the same 
crime that I was not guilty of, and placed in Chokee, in that 
low, dirty, cold, miserable place, where you are half starved 
and don't receive good attention by the keeper. I do not 
believe that they give you what rations the law allows you. 
I caught my death-cold there, for I have not had a well day 
since. Though I look healthy, I am far from it. I would 
have sued the State and County for damages if I could, but 
the authorities fell back on their dignity, and said, " We had 
a right to arrest him on suspicion." '»■ 



58 

Ah, reader, is that fair to hold a man fourteen days on sus- 
picion, and, when proved innocent, he to receive no damages 
for it ? I gave Officers Geo. Harvey, Moore and Rider 
credit for their respectful treatment of me. They did no 
more than their duty. They did not hatch up lies to convict 
an innocent man, as many others do. My opinion is that 
the poor men of the United States do not get justice at law 
as the rich man does. We should have the best laws in 
these United States of any place on the face of the globe, 
but we are far from it. England now is not as strong as the 
United States, and her laws are few, but more powerful than 
the laws of the United States. She protects her subjects at 
home and abroad, more especially at home. Now, reader, let 
us see the difference between the United States and England, 
relative to the poorer class of people. There was a white man 
brought from Idaho, supposed to be Weeks, the murderer, on 
suspicion. They kept him in about half of the time they 
kept Williams in Chokee. After he was proven not to be the 
man, oh, what did they do ? I noticed that the people of this 
city raised him some four or five thousand dollars, and gave 
him a benefit in the theatre. What did you do for Williams, 
the poor negro.-' You did not even honorably acquit him 
through your papers. When some of you will be in torment, 
calling for water to cool your parched tongues, I expect to be 
in Abraham's bosom. I mean those who are my accusers. 
Then, when I was arraigned for general trial, what did the 
District Attorney say to the Judge ? "Judge, your honor, I 
have no case, or no evidence, to show that this man is guilty. 
You have heard all the evidence in this case, and there is 
nothing against him. There was no evidence before the jury 
when they indicted him. Only the darkies made such a fuss, 
we thought that we had better hold him, to see if there could 
be anything found against him." So the District Attorney 
made a motion to dismiss the case. Now, reader, is that fair ? 
Where are my damages for being falsely imprisoned .-' I am 
speaking against office-holders and office-seekers. All that I 
can receive for damages is for the people to buy my book. I 
am wounded and injured for life in my reputation ; everybody 
looks down on me with a frowning, treacherous look, through- 
out the worW, far and near, wherever I am known. Is it fair 



59 

that a man should be browbeat in this manner without any 
cause ? My heart is clear, my hands are clear, my mind is 
clear, my skirts are clear. I am as clear as the glittering sun 
of any blood-stain to my skirts. I never have harmed or in- 
jured any living thing on the face of the earth, not even to the 
beasts. I have always been kind-hearted, benevolent and 
good-natured to all races, colors and sexes, without any preju- 
dice whatever. Reader, you can believe this or let it alone. 
It is immaterial to me whether you believe it or not. God is 
my sacred Judge. He is sufficient for all things. I will ever 
trust in Him. If He is for me, all hell may be against me, 
and cannot shake my foundation. "Oh," says one, "why is 
it that your own people are so down on you, or what did you 
do that they so dislike you ?" I will tell you : I am a little 
Southern boy, born in the South, and never had any training 
at school, having more brains than some of the Northern boys 
have education. You ask the colored man what is my repu- 
tation ? He will say, " He is a bad man." " Well, what did 
he do to you.?" "O, nothing." "Well, what did you know 
him to do.?" " O, nothing; but they say he is a bad man." 
" How long have you known him .? " " Ten or fifteen years ; 
but they say he is a bad man — they say he is a sharper." 
" What kind of a sharper — a gambler ? " " No ; they say he 
is sharp, beats you in trade, and he fights." " Is that all ? " 
" Yes, that is all." "Don't he work?" "Yes." Reader, 
these phrases are used by colored men that call themselves 
learned men. Where do you find them ? In the whisky 
mills, the most intellectual colored men we have in our 
community — at the card table and the billiard tables. That 
is the class of men that have been browbeating the Southern 
boy. Are they a criterion to be ruled by or governed by ? 
"Yes; they say your church brothers and sisters despise 
you. What did you do to them .?" Let us examine ourselves 
closely, and see what we have done. One brother, Shep- 
pard, spoke disorderly in the board meeting. I, doing my 
duty as a trustee, made a charge against him, and handed 
him over to the Quarterly Conference, and he was set back. 
Another brother I spoke to about his breath smelling of 
whisky in time of service. They always told me that they 
would get even with me, and this is their little grievance. 



6o 

" But they say he is a bad man ; he robbed the church." Well, 
let us see how he robbed the church. They appointed him 
collector and agent for the church. They allowed me two 
dollars a day and traveling expenses, but I must make the 
money myself. I done so, and turned in about three thou- 
sand dollars in eight months, clear of all my expenses. 
This is what they call robbing the church. There was great 
confusion amongst the trustees all the time I was collecting, 
thinking that I was making an easy living. There was one 
brother amongst them that could shout higher than I could, 
and was fuller of the Holy Ghost than I was, or he pretended 
to be, and was very anxious for the office, and his friends 
were anxious for him to have it. After settling up at the 
trustees' meeting, and they saying that everything was satis- 
factory, they said that they would like to have the books, 
for they could send out a man that could turn in a little more 
money than I could in that time. They sent out one Mr. 
Johnson. He went to San Francisco. I am told that he col- 
lected three or four hundred dollars. The sight of the money 
did him so much good, that he went to keeping restaurant, 
and never came back. As far as I understand and know, he 
backslid from the church. When he used to be giving in his 
experience at the meeting, he used to say, " My name is 
John Johnson, bound for heaven." So, reader, you see these 
are the kind of men that rule the colored church. Ah, 
Williams robbed the church, did he .■• Let us inquire a little 
further into it. Who did they send out next ? One good 
old M. E. preacher, by the name of Elder Handy, who said 
that he would not deal with the trustees, and wanted the 
privilege of turning his money in at the General Conference 
at the end of the year. At the end of the year, he turned in- 
to Conference fifty dollars, and said that it took all that he 
could collect to pay his board and traveling expenses. So 
Williams is a bad man ; they say he robbed the church. 
What do you think of this story .^ Reader, the worst enemies 
that I ever had in my life were men and women that belonged 
to the church. The A. M. church in California preach 
up a great deal of religion, but practice but little. You may 
visit the class-room of the A. M. church, and you will find 
three or four brothers and sisters all going to heaven, and 



6i 

one won't speak to the other, though they turned me out when 
I was present, without a legal notice, and they never have 
told me what I was turned out for. Is that Christianity ? 
May the Lord forgive them, for they know not what they are 
doing. Let not our hearts be troubled, but live and fear the 
Lord, and trust in him forever. The whole world may be 
against me, but yet I will trust in the Lord. O, let us seek 
him with all our hearts, and by his power we will be borne up. 
Reader, they say Williams is a bad man. Yes, Linchcomb 
said that he done the deed. Why did he say so .-• Because 
he saw that there was no alternative to save himself. Then 
his friends and my enemies, after seeing that he was convict- 
ed, in order to take the stain off of his mother and kindred, 
said to him, "You just say that it is Williams, and that will 
keep the disgrace from us." Or, in other words, if public in- 
fluence can saddle it on Williams, we perhaps can clear you, 
or, after a while, get you pardoned out. Reader, he could 
not come out until after he was convicted. What do you 
think of that for an innocent man ? His friends tried hard 
to put up a job on me. They produced a hat, purporting it 
to be mine ; but, thank God, it was four inches too small for 
me, and, furthermore, it was found three weeks before the 
circumstance happened. What do you think of such malice .-* 
And they even went so far as to try to persuade the lady 
with whom I was stopping to say that I was out when I was 
in ; and said to her, if he had been stopping with you, I 
would say he was out anyhow. But she would not lie ; and 
then they tried to make her run away. But she said, " What 
will I run away for .'' I have done nothing wrong, and I 
know nothing wrong of anybody else for me to run away." 
And they furthermore said to her, " We don't care who 
hangs or who don't as long as we clear Linchcomb." This 
was done by colored people. In my humble belief they are 
the most treacherous people in the city of Sacramento, 
State of California, or any portion of the world I ever trav- 
eled. Ah, my colored brethren were not aware of the joke 
we practiced on Linchcomb while in jail. I placed two offi- 
cers behind his cell, went to the door, and the keeper said: 
" Mr. Linchcomb, Mr. Williams wants to see you," and he 
walked off and left me as he thought, the same time I 



62 

having two officers placed behind the door. Says I, " Mr. 
Linchcomb, why don't you come out and tell the people that 
I have nothing to do with this, and not keep me locked up 
for nothing." And says he, " I will say nothing that will 
implicate myself, for my attorney has advised me what to do, 
and told me not to talk to any one." And he looks up at me, 
and says : " How is it that the keeper will allow you to come 
and talk by yourself, because they are very particular to 
come and listen when anybody else comes in." Ah, reader, 
if I was so guilty, as he stated after the conviction, why did 
he not state it at the cell-door when we were alone, or sup- 
posed to be ? 

Well may it be noted that " a drowning man will catch 
at a straw to save himself." Reader, you have heard of the 
cat story : Once upon a time two cats stole a cheese. After 
stealing it, they did not know how to divide it ; they called 
in a monkey to divide it. He, making himself and believing 
himself to be the judge, opened Court, and called for the 
scales, and, breaking the cheese, placed each part in the 
scales ; but one side weighing heavier than the other, he bit 
off apiece, and he said, "The other side is little the heavier," 
and he bit a piece off of it ; and so he kept on biting. At 
last the cats got to grumbling, and said, "Give each of us 
our share, and we will go off satisfied," and says he, " No, I 
am the judge of the Court; my friends have got to be pro- 
vided for, the costs of the Court have to be paid, and the 
judge has to have his salary." And then he rams the other 
end in his mouth and dismisses the Court. 

" Well, writer, what do you mean by that story ? " Reader, 
I will show you. Read slow, and observe and take notice of 
what you read. Mrs. Fair committed a crime wilfully, and 
all effort was made to clear her, by trial after trial, until she 
was cleared. Tip McLaughlin committed a crime wilfully. 
All effort was made to clear him. Juries disagreed and dis- 
agreed until he was brought in guilty. I am niot an enemy 
of these parties, neither do I have any ill-feeling towards 
them. I only draw up these resolutions to illustrate this 
story, to show to the intelligent portion of the people the 
injustice of the law. I have seen more law in California 
than any other part of the world which I have traveled in. 



63 

but, according to my belief, little justice. " Can you prove 
that ? " I can, by relating the cat story, and referring to 
the Tip McLaughlin case. When the jury brought in a 
verdict of g^iHty, says the Court, " My friends and the Court 
are not satisfied. We will walk out and take a drink, and let 
him skedaddle." How did you treat poor Williams, the 
darky, who was not guilty of any crime ? You kept him 
in close confinement, guarded by two strong officers, and 
the bloodhounds were running far and near, trying to impli- 
cate him, when there was nothing against him. So you see 
the difference. A man that is innocent they try to convict, 
and one that is guilty they let him walk out of the court- 
house. Remember, if I am not educated, that I have good 
sound mother-wit, and take notice of the actions of office- 
holders. In comes the cat story again. After my money 
was gone they let me go, as the monkey did the cats, and 
rammed it all in his mouth, and dismissed the Court, and I 
went whining, as the cats did, about my most shameful 
treatment throughout the State of California. But be it 
known, that the Anglo-Saxon race were my best friends 
through it all. 



A FEW SKETCHES OF THE CATHOLIC AND 
PROTESTANT CHURCHES. 

The Protestants say that the Catholics worship idols. I 
want to show you that I am of a Methodist opinion and 
Methodist belief. I am going to show you, according to my 
weak opinion, that there is no difference in religion. Yes, 
but the Catholics bow down to wooden images. Is there 
anything wrong about that .■' They do it as a token of 
remembrance of Christ. Don't the Protestants have like- 
nesses of some great man, or of their fathers or mothers, 
and worship them in some like manner.'' Then why not 
have the picture of our Saviour in our houses } He is more 
to us than all of them. Crosses and trials and persecutions 
are of the way to heaven ; but let us endeavor to give God 
the glory, and yet will I trust in Him all the days of my life, 
until my change takes place. 

As far as I could see in all my travels the Catholic priests 
are thoroughly educated. Then they are not fools. You say 
that they address their prayers to the Virgin Mary, to get 
her to intercede with Christ for them. Is there anything 
wrong about that } The Protestants pray to the Son to in- 
tercede with the Father ; but the Catholics say mass and go 
to the priest to confess. What does the priest say .'' He tells 
them to do nothing wrong, but to go in peace and sin no 
more. Is there anything wrong about that ? The Methodists 
and Baptists have class meetings, and they stand up before a 
man that they call a leader and confess to him, and he tells 
them to do no evil, and to go in peace and sin no more. Is 
there any difference between the two ? 

Seeing this, it occurs to my mind what is the use of so 

much caviling against the Catholics, for the Protestants are, 

more or less, continually slandering the Catholics. They 

remind me of Jeff. Davis' followers, when they fired on Fort 

64 



65 

Sumpter, and then cried, "Let us alone." Reader, you ask 
the reason of my making these remarks concerning the 
Catholics, These came under my notice during my life. We 
are all living together, and should be friendly with one an- 
other, and not despise each other. The Protestants bit off 
their noses to spite their own faces, in the taxation of their 
own churches to get to tax the Catholics. They are able to 
pay their taxes, while some of the Protestants are hardly able 
to pay the tax that is assessed on them. They are the most 
benevolent body that we have amongst us. They take care 
of their members and their sick, and provide for their 
widows, as far as I can see, and understand that their faith 
and belief are the bulwarks of religion. If you belong to a 
secret society in California, and are in good standing, and 
should go to Europe, and find a body there of the same asso- 
ciation as that which you are identified with here, after under- 
going a strict examination and finding you to be in good 
standing in the former association, then, by your good works 
and having the password, you are admitted to that associa- 
tion. Then let us live in the faith, and die in the faith, for 
faith is the key that unlocks the gate of heaven. The God 
of heaven will not ask us whether we are Catholics, Baptists 
or Methodists. There are but two places — heaven and hell. 
We are all striving for the same place ; then let us stop ridi- 
culing one another. I, J. Williams, found that the Catholics, 
whilst I was collecting for the A. M. E. Church, were very 
benevolent. Every priest in the State gave me something, 
except two. Father Cotter gave me $20, and Father Gibney 
gave $10, and another priest in this city gave me ^15. Every 
priest that I called on in San Francisco gave me a liberal 
contribution, except one ; and also in Marysville the priest 
gave me, as also did the Catholic priest in Grass Valley. Mr. 
Senks, of Grass Valley, informed me that the priest gave 
him $50 for the A. M. E. Church of that place. Is that not 
a good act } Why do we cavil so much against the Catholics .? 
Let us live in harmony one with the other whilst on this 
earth, and help each other their burdens to bear. After 
death we will all live in heaven together, if we are prepared 
for that place, or else in the horrible pit with the rich man 
Dives. 



66 

" Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute 
you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my 
sake. Rejoice, and be exceedingly glad, for great is your 
reward in heaven, for so persecuted they the prophets which 
were before you." 

In 1 871 I was employed to solicit aid to pay a debt on the 
Siloam Baptist Church, of Sacramento. I found it an un- 
thankful job, as I generally found it in other churches. There 
was confusion and jars, as usual in such bodies. One could 
not do enough. It is true, reader, that I am a professor of 
religion ; also, I must state the fact that it is not all that 
make the loudest professions that are the most exemplary 
Christians. In all churches that I have been connected with, 
I have always found two parties, one working against the 
other. That is the cause of the confusion. I was employed 
just before a trustee election, and the old Board of Trustees 
demanded the moneys that I collected, saying that they put 
me in, and I must hand over the moneys collected to them. 
The new Board of Trustees took exceptions at it, and they 
published that I was no longer a collector for the Siloam 
Baptist Church, without stating that I had resigned, and set- 
tled in an honorable manner. Then I made them republish 
me, stating that I had resigned honorably, and my accounts 
were correct. My making them make a statement of collec- 
tions, caused some hard feelings, and made me not a few 
enemies, I was informed that one of the members made a 
statement in the church, and asked for assistance to raise 
money to fee a lawyer to defeat the enemy, whilst I was in 
prison ; that the enemy had employed one of the best lawyers 
in the State, and by making these remarks, I supposed that 
they were alluding to me. This was after the report of the 
coroner's jury. 

James Williams testified before the coroner's jury, in the 
Lizey Thompson homicide, that the watch and 9ther jewelry 
of the deceased were oroide, and not valuable. Another 
colored man, who also gave evidence, and who manifested 
much feeling against Williams, testified the watch was gold, 
he thought, and of considerable value, A manufacturing 
jeweler of this city, who repaired it, states that it was a small 
oroide cylinder escapement, not worth, when new, more than 



^7 

^15 in greenbacks. When Williams was examined upon the 
charge of being accessory to the homicide, there was not a 
particle of evidence against him, and it now appears that he, 
and not the other witness, assigned the true value to the 
woman's jewelry. And Williams further testified that the 
woman had ^19 or $20 in the Sacramento Savings Bank; 
but the other witnesses testified that she had $150, but when 
the undertaker, Mr. Camboie Williams, and the girl's mother 
went to the bank, they found $19.85 to her credit. Reader, 
you can draw your own conclusion, whether I have been 
treated right by the people of color, and more especially by 
the church members, or a portion of them, I would advise 
all persons, especially the young, to avoid, as much as possi- 
ble, handling moneys belonging to a church, and more es- 
pecially the African churches, for that has done me more 
harm than anything that I know of, for that race do not give 
one another credit for anything good done for the whole body. 
Said one of the members in connection with one of the 
Methodist brothers, "He robbed Aunt Susan." Let us see 
how he has robbed her. I wish for the reader to know the 
facts in this particular case. An old colored lady, by the 
name of Susan Neal, came from Alabama to California with 
her owners, and gained her freedom by coming to California, 
and afterwards married Charles Neal, who died, and left her 
in debt. Then there was a suit brought against her for his 
debts, or for a debt ; and to liquidate the said debt, she went 
around and begged money of the people. Sometime after 
paying that debt, a certain lawyer and a judge said that if 
she could pay one debt, she could pay them for fees due them. 
So they commenced suits against her for their fees. The day 
the trial was to come off, I met her in the street, crying. I 
said to her, "What is the matter, Aunt Susan.!*" She 
answered, " What has always been the matter with me .-' — the 
same thing that has always been the matter with me is the 
matter with me now. The people down South have got all 
my labor, and I have come to California, and got free, and 
made a little money, and now the white folks are trying to 
rob me out of that. There is a suit coming off to-day against 
me, and I have been to two or three colored men," calling 
their names, "asking them if they would help me, but just as 



68 

soon as they found that they had a little money to pay, they 
would not do anything for me. I went to the society that 
my husband belonged to, the United Sons of Friendship, and 
said to them, ' If you will pay the debt on my property, and 
let me have it as long as I live, and then you can have it.' 
But when they found out that they had some money to pay 
out, they refused." Then she spoke to me and asked me if 
I would go and see her out to-day, I said, "Certainly," and 
I went with her to W. R. Cantwell's office, and settled the 
claim that he had against her. and didn't ask for any security. 
A few days afterwards, she came to me and said, " Mr. Wil- 
liams, if you will pay off all the debts against my property, 
and protect me so that the white folks won't rob me any 
more, then, at my death, you can have it all, for I have no 
one in the world to care for me." Then she asked me to go 
with her to a lawyer. I went with her, and her lawyer ex- 
plained it to her, and asked her if she knew what she was 
doing. She answered, " Yes, I know thoroughly what I am 
doing. I want to put my property in Mr. Williams' hands, 
so that the white folks can't rob me, and have him for a pro- 
tector." He drew up the writings for her, and there was a 
white friend present throughout the transaction. Then, after- 
wards her lawyer explained the writing to her agent. Then 
we went to Judge Cross's office, and he read the papers and 
explained them to her, and she acknowledged them and 
seemed to be satisfied with their contents. 

" Ah, Williams is a rascal," they say ; " he robbed Aunt 
Sue out of her property." Now, reader, you can see how he 
robbed her. This is a true statement of the facts. Whilst I 
was doing this, no one had anything to say, one way or the 
other, either for or against, but just as soon as she got sick 
(I was in San Francisco at the time,) some of my enemies 
went to see her, and persuaded her to make a will in favor 
of some outside person that had never done anything for her, 
without regard to the deed that she had given to me. She 
being sick did not understand what she was doing, and in 
consequence of their importunities, she made the will, and 
when I came back, these parties that were with her would 
shut the door in my face, and refused to let me see her, and 
the groceries and provisions that I sent to her they would 



69 

send back. Then, after her death, which happened about six 
weeks after the above occurrence, my enemies got themselves 
appointed to carry out the provisions of the will, and settled 
up the estate, and their services were given in, as they wished 
to assist the widow that the will was made in favor of; but 
afterwards, in settling up the estate, they demanded one 
hundred dollars for their services. When I found that they 
all wanted the property more than I did, I offered to com- 
promise with them by their paying me the moneys that I had 
paid out, with interest. They did so, and set a trap to rob 
me out of about half the money, and succeeded in it. So you 
see how I robbed her. May God have mercy on such a sin- 
ful and treacherous set. 



THE STORY OF CHARLES THOMPSON. 

He was a member of the Baptist Church of Richmond. 
In stature he was medium size, color dark, hair long and 
bushy, rather of rawboned and rugged appearance, modest 
and self-possessed, with much more intelligence than would 
be supposed from first observation. On his arrival here, he 
had shaken hands with the British Lion's paw, which he 
was desirous of doing, and changed the habiliments in 
which he escaped. Having listened to the recital of this 
thrilling tale, and wished to get it, we here produce it, 
word for word, as it flowed naturally from his lips. " How 
old are you } " " Thirty-two years first day of last June." 
" Were you born a slave ? " " Yes." " How have you been 
treated ? " " Badly, all of the time, for the last twelve 
years." " What do you mean by being treated badly .-'" " I 
have been whipped, and they never gave me anything." " What 
was the name of your master .-' " " Fleming Bibbs." " Where 
did you live .'' " " In Caroline County, fifty miles above Rich- 
mond." " What did your master do .'' " " He was a farmer." 



70 

" Did you ever live with him?" "I never did. He always 
hired me out, and then I couldn't please him." "What 
kind of a man was he .'' " " A man with a very severe temper, 
would drink at all times, though he would do it slily." 
•' Was he a member of any church ? " *' Yes, a Baptist ; he 
would curse at his servants, as if he weren't in any church." 
"Was his family members of the church, too?" "Yes." 
"What kind of family had he ? " " His wife was a tolerable 
fair woman, but his sons were dissipated, and all of them 
rowdies and gamblers. The sons have had children by the 
servants. One of his daughters had a child by his grand- 
son last April. They are traders — buy and sell." " How 
many slaves did he own ? " " Fifteen besides myself." 
" Did any of them know that you were going to leave ? " 
" No ; I saw my brother on Tuesday, but never said a word 
to him about it." "What put it in your head to leave ? " 
" It was bad treatment for being put in jail for soil, the 7th 
day of last January. I was whipped in jail, and after I came 
out the only thing they told me was that I had been selling 
newspapers about the street, and was half free." " Where 
did you live then ? " " In Richmond. I have been living 
out for twenty-one years." " How much did your master 
receive a year for your services ? " " From sixty-five to one 
hundred and fifty dollars." " Did you have to find your- 
self ? " " No ; the people who hired me found me. The gen- 
eral rule in Richmond is 75 cents for a week's board is allowed, 
and if a man gets any more than that he has to find it him- 
self." " How about Sunday clothing ? " " Find them your- 
self." " How about a house to live in ? " " Have that to 
find yourself, and if you have a wife and family it makes no 
difference — they don't allow anything for that at all." "Sup- 
pose you are sick, who pays the doctor ? " " Our master 
pays that." " How do you manage to make a little extra 
money ? " " By getting up before day and carrying out 
papers, and doing other jobs, cleaning up single men's 
rooms and the like." " What have you been employed at in 
Richmond ? " " Been working in a tobacco factory ; this year 
I was hired to a printing office, the National American. I 
carried papers." " Had you a wife ? " " I had, but her mas- 
ter was a very bad man, and was opposed to me, and would 



71 

not let me come there to see my wife, and he persuaded her 
to take another husband, and being in his hands she took 
his advice." "How long ago was that?" "Near twelve 
months ago. She got married last fall." "Had you any 
children.?" "Yes, five." " Where are they .? " " Three are 
with Jacob Luck, her master ; one with his sister, and the 
other belongs to Judge Hudgins, of Bowling Green." " Do 
you expect to see them again .? " " No, not till the day of 
the great I Am." "What do you think of slavery?" "I 
think that it is a great curse, and I think the Baptists in Rich- 
mond will go to the deepest hell, if there is any, for they are 
so wicked they will work you all day and part of the night, 
and wear cloaks and long faces, and try to get all of the 
work out of you that they can, by telling you of Jesus Christ. 
Out of their extra money they have to pay a white man five 
hundred dollars a year for preaching." " What kind of 
preaching does he give you ? " "He tells them if they die in 
their sins they will go to hell, and that they must obey their 
masters and mistresses ; for good servants make good masters. 
All they want you to know is enough to say master and mis- 
tress, and run like lightning when they speak to you, and do 
just what they want you to do." 



HENRY BOX BROWN. 



Although the name of Henry Box Brown has been echoed 
over the land for a number of years, and the simple facts 
connected with his miraculous escape in a box from slavery 
published widely through the medium of anti-slavery papers, 
nevertheless, it is not unreasonable to suppose that very lit- 
tle is know in relation to his case. Brown was a man of 
invention as well as a hero. He was decidedly an unhappy 
piece of property in the City of Richmond, in the condition 
of a slave. He felt that it would be impossible for him to 



^2 

remain. Full well did he know that it was no holiday task 
to escape the vigilance of Virginia slave-hunters, as the 
wrath of an enraged master, for committing the unpardona- 
ble sin of attempting to escape to a land of liberty, would be 
unappeasable. So Brown counted well the cost before ven- 
turing upon his hazardous undertaking. Ordinary modes of 
travel, he concluded, might prove disastrous to his hopes. 
He, therefore, hit upon a new invention, which was to have 
himself boxed up and forwarded to Philadelphia, direct, by 
express. The size of the box and how it was to be made to 
fit him most comfortably was of his own ordering. Two feet 
eight inches deep, two feet wide, and three feet long, was 
the exact dimensions of the box lined with baize. His re- 
sources, with regard to food and water, consisted of one 
bladder of water and a few small biscuit. Satisfied that it 
would be far better to peril his life for freedom in this way 
than to remain under the galling yoke of slavery, he entered 
his box, which was safely nailed up, and hooped with five 
hickory hoops, and was then addressed by his next friend, 
James A. Smith, a shoe dealer, to Wm, H. Johnson, Arch 
street, Philadelphia, marked "This side up with care." In 
this condition he was sent to Adams' Express ofBce, in a dray, 
and thence by overland express to Philadelphia. It was 
twenty-six hours from the time he left Richmond until his 
arrival in the City of Brotherly Love. The notice, "This side 
up with care," did not avail much ; for awhile they actually 
had the box upside down, and had him standing on his head, 
for miles. A few days before he was expected, certain inti- 
mation was conveyed to a member of the Vigilance Committee, 
that a box might be expected by the three o'clock morning 
train from the South, which might contain a man. One of 
the most serious walks he ever took, was at half-past two 
o'clock that morning, to the depot — not once, but for more 
than a score of times. He fancied the slave would be dead. 
He anxiously looked while the freight was being unloaded 
from the cars, to see if he could recognize a box that might 
contain a man. One alone had that appearance, and he con- 
fessed it really seemed as if there was a scent of death about 
it. But, on inquiry, he soon learned that it was not the one 
he was looking for. That same afternoon he received from 



73 

Richmond a telegram, which read thus : "Your case of goods 
is shipped, and will arrive to-morrow morning." At this ex- 
citing juncture of affairs, Mr. McKim, who had been engi- 
neering this important undertaking, deemed it expedient to 
change the programme slightly, in one particular, at least, to 
insure greater safety. Instead of having a member of the 
Committee go again to the depot for the box, which might 
excite suspicion, it was decided that it would be safest to have 
the express bring it direct to the Anti-Slavery office. But 
all apprehensions of danger did not now disappear, for there 
was no room to suppose that Adams' Express office had any 
sympathy with the abolitionists or the fugitive ; consequently, 
it was contemplated that Mr. McKim should appear person- 
ally at the Express office to give directions with reference to 
the coming of a box from Richmond, which would be directed 
to Arch street, and yet not intended for that street, but for 
the Anti-Slavery office, at 107 North Fifth street. It needed, 
of course, no great discernment to foresee that a step of this 
kind would be wholly impracticable, and that a more indirect 
and covert method would have to be adopted in this dreadful 
crisis. Mr. McKim, with his usual good judgment and re- 
markable quick strategetical mind, especially in matters per- 
taining to the U. G. Railroad, hit upon the following plan, 
namely, to go to his friend, E. M. Davis, who was engaged in 
mercantile business, and relate the circumstances. Having 
daily intercourse with the said office, and being well acquainted 
with the firm and some of the drivers, Mr. Davis could, as 
Mr, McKim thought, talk about boxes, freight, etc., from any 
part of the country, without risk. 

Mr. Davis heard Mr. McKim's plan, and instantly approved 
of it, and was heartily at his service. "Dan, an Irishman, 
one of Adams' Express drivers, is just the fellow to go to the 
depot after the box," said Davis. "He drinks a little too 
much whisky sometimes, but he will do anything I ask him 
to do promptly. I'll trust Dan, for I believe him to be the 
very man." The difficulty which Mr. McKim had been so 
anxious to overcome, was thus pretty well settled. It was 
agreed that Dan should go after the box next morning, before 
daylight, and bring it to the Anti-Slavery office, and to make 
it all the more agreeable for Dan to get up out of his warm 



74 

bed and go on this errand before day, it was decided that he 
should have a five-dollar gold piece for himself. Thus these 
preliminaries having been satisfactorily arranged, it only 
remained for Mr. Davis to see Dan, and give him instructions 
accordingly. 

Next morning, according to arrangement, the box was at 
the Anti-Slavery office in due time. The witnesses present 
to behold the resurrection were : J. McKim, G. D. Cleave- 
land, L. Thompson, and the writer. All was quiet. The 
door had been safely locked. The proceedings commenced, 
Mr. McKim stepped quietly on the lid of the box, and 
called out, "All right." Instantly came the answer from 
within, "All right, sir." The witnesses will never forget that 
moment. Saw and hatchet quickly had the five hickory 
hoops cut and the lid off, and the marvelous resurrection of 
Brown ensued. Rising up in his box, he reached out his 
hand, saying, "How do you do, gentlemen.?" The little 
assemblage hardly knew what to think or do at the moment. 
He was as wet as if he come out of the Delaware River. 

Very soon he remarked that, before leaving Richmond, he 
had selected to sing on his arrival, if he lived, the Psalm 
beginning with these words: "I waited patiently for the 
Lord, and he heard my prayer." And most touchingly did 
he sing the Psalm, much to his own relief as well as to the 
delight of his small audience. He was then christened 
" Henry Box Brown," and was soon afterwards sent to the 
hospitable residence of James Mott and E. M. Davis, on 
Ninth street, where, it is needless to say, he met a most 
cordial welcome from Mrs. Lucretia Mott and her house- 
hold — clothing and creature comforts were furnished in 
abundance, and delight and joy filled all hearts. He had 
been so long doubled up in the box, he needed to promenade 
considerably in the fresh air. So James Mott put one of his 
broad-brim hats on his head, and tendered him the hospitali- 
ties of his yard as well as his house, whilst Brown prome- 
naded the yard, flushed with victory. Great was the joy of 
his friends. After his visit at Mrs. Mott's, he spent two 
days with the writer, and then took his departure for Boston, 
evidently feeling quite conscious of the wonderful feat he 
had performed. 



75 

STORY OF A YOUNG WOMAN'S ESCAPE FROM 
SLAVERY IN A BOX— NAME UNKNOWN. 

In the winter of 1857, ^ young woman, who had just 
turned her majority, was boxed up in Baltimore by one who 
stood to her in the relation of a companion, a young man, 
who had the box conveyed as freight to the depot in Balti- 
more, consigned to Philadelphia. Nearly all one night it 
remained at the depot with the living agony in it, and, after 
being upside down more than once, the next day, about ten 
o'clock, it reached Philadelphia. Her companion, coming on 
in advance of the box, arranged with a hackman, George 
Custis, to attend to having it brought from the depot to a 
designated house, Mrs. Myers', 412 South Seventh street, 
where the resurrection was to take place. Custis, without 
knowing exactly what the box contained, but suspected, from 
the apparent anxiety and instruction of the young man who 
engaged him to go after it. Whilst the freight car still stood 
in the street he demanded it of the freight agent, not willing 
to wait the usual time for delivery of freight. At first the 
freight agent declined delivering under such circumstances. 
The hackman insisted, by saying that he wished to dispatch 
it in great haste. " It is all right ; you know me ; I have 
been coming here for many years, every day, and will be 
responsible for it." The freight-master told him to take it 
and go ahead with it. No sooner said than done. It was 
placed in a one-horse wagon, at the instance of Custis, and 
driven to Seventh and Minster streets. The secret had been 
entrusted to Mrs. Myers by the young companion of the 
woman. A feeling of horror came over the aged woman 
who had been thus suddenly entrusted with such responsi- 
bility. A few doors from her lived an old friend of the same 
religious faith with herself, well known as a brave woman and 
a friend of the slave, Mrs. Ash, the undertaker, or shrouder, 
whom everybody knew among the colored people. Mrs. 
Myers thought it would not be wise to move in the matter 
of this resurrection without the presence of the undertaker. 
Accordingly she called for Mrs. Ash. Even her own family 
were excluded from witnessing the scene. The two aged 
women chose to be alone in that fearful moment, shuddering 
at the thought that a corpse might meet their gaze instead 



76 

of a living creature. However, they mustered courage and 
pried off the lid. A woman was discovered in the straw, 
but no signs of life were perceptible. Their fears seemed 
fulfilled. Surely she is dead, thought the witnesses. "Get 
up, my child," spoke one of the women. With scarcely life 
enough to move the straw covering, she nevertheless did 
now show signs of life, but to a very faint degree. She 
could not speak, but, being assisted, arose. She was 
straightway aided up stairs, not yet uttering a word. After 
a short while she said : "I feel so deadly faint." She was 
then asked if she would not have some water or nourishment, 
which she declined. Before a great while, however, she was 
prevailed upon to take a cup of tea. She then went to bed, 
and there remained all day, speaking but a very little during 
that time. The second day she gained strength, and was able 
to talk much better, but not with ease. The third day she 
began to come to herself, and to talk quite freely. She tried 
to describe her sufferings and fears while in the box, but in 
vain. In the midst of her severest agonies, her chief fear 
was that she would be discovered and carried back to slavery. 
She had a pair of scissors with her, and, in order to procure 
fresh air, she had made a hole in the box, but it was very 
slight. How she ever managed to breathe and maintain 
her existence, being in the condition to become a mother, 
it was hard to comprehend. In this instance, the utmost en- 
durance was put to test. She was obviously nearer death 
than Henry Box Brown, or any other of the box cases that 
ever came under the notice of the committee. In Baltimore 
she belonged to a wealthy and fashionable family, and had 
been a seamstress and ladies' servant generally. On one oc- 
casion, when sent of an errand for certain articles, in order 
to complete arrangements for the grand opening ball at the 
Academy of Music, she took occasion not to return, but was 
among the missing. Great search was made, and a large re- 
ward offered, but all to no purpose. A free colored woman 
who washed for the family was suspected of knowing some- 
thing of her going, but they failing to get aught out of her, 
she was discharged. Soon after the arrival of this traveler 
at Mrs. Myers', the committee was sent for, and learned the 
facts as above stated. After spending some three days with 
Mrs. Myers' family, she was forwarded to Canada. 



77 
STORY OF HARRY GRIMES. 

Harry was about forty-six years of age, according to his 
reckoning, full six feet high, and in muscular appearance 
very rugged, and in his countenance were evident marks 
of firmness. He was born a slave in North Carolina, and 
had been sold three times. The first time when a child, 
second time when he was thirteen, and the third and last 
time to Jesse Moore, from whom he fled. He said that he 
had been treated very bad. One day we were grubbing, and 
master said we didn't do work enough. " How come it there 
was no more work done that day .'' " said master to me. I told 
him I did work. In a more stormy manner he repeated the 
question. I then spoke up, and said : " Massa, I don't know 
what to say." At once master plunged his knife into my 
neck, causing me to stagger. He was drunk. He then 
drove me down to the black folks' cabins. He then got his 
gun, and called the overseer, and told him to get some ropes. 
While he was gone, I said, " Master, now you are going to 
tie me up and cut me all to pieces for nothing." In a great 
rage he said, "Go!" I jumped, and he put up his gun and 
snapped both barrels at me. He then set his dogs on me, 
but as I had been in the habit of making much of them, feed- 
ing them, they would not follow me. I kept on straight to 
the woods. My master and overseer caught the horses and 
tried to run me down, but as the dogs would not follow me, 
they could not make anything of it. It was the last of August, 
one year ago ; the devil was into him, and he flogged and 
beat four of the slaves, one man and three of the women, 
and said, if he could only get hold of me he wouldn't strike 
me nary a lick, but would tie me to a tree and empty both 
barrels into me. My master was a man about fifty years of 
age, a right red-looking man, a big bellied old fellow ; 
weighed about two hundred and forty pounds ; he drank hard ; 
he was just like a rattlesnake, and so cross and crabbed when 
he spoke, seemed like he could go through you. He flogged 
a slave, called Richmond, for not plowing the corn good. 
That was what he pretended to whip him for. Richmond ran 
away — was gone four months, as nigh as I can guess. Then 
they caught him, then struck him a hundred lashes, and then 



7^ 

they split both feet to the bone, and split both his insteps, 
and then master took his knife and stuck it into him in many- 
places. After he had done him in that way, he put him in 
the barn to shucking corn. For a long time he was not able 
to work. When he did partly recover, he was set to work 
again. 

When I was in the woods, I lived on nothing, you may say, 
and yet something, too. I had bread, and roasting ears, and 
potatoes. I stayed in the hollow of a big tree for seven 
months. The other part of the time I stayecT in a cave. I 
suffered mighty bad with the cold, and for the want of some- 
thing to eat. Once I got me some charcoal, and made me a 
fire in my tree to warm myself, and it like to have killed me. 
So I had to take the fire out. One time a snake came and 
poked its head in the hollow, and was coming in, and I took 
my axe and chopped him in two. It was a poplar-leaf mocca- 
sin, the poisonest kind of a snake we have. While in the 
woods, all of my thoughts were how to get away to a free 
country. 

Subsequently, in going back over his past history, he 
referred to the fact that, on an occasion long before the cave 
and tree existence, already noticed, when suffering under this 
brutal master, he sought protection in the woods, and abode 
twenty-seven months in a cave, before he surrendered him- 
self or was captured. His offence, in this instance, was 
simply because he desired to see his wife, and stole away 
from his master's plantation, and went a distance of five miles 
to where she lived, to see her. For this grave crime, his 
master threatened to give him a hundred lashes and to shoot 
him. In order to avoid this punishment, he escaped to the 
woods. The lapse of a dozen years, and recent struggles for 
existence, made him think lightly of his former troubles, and 
he would doubtless have failed to recall his earlier conflicts. 
He was asked if he had a family. "Yes, sir," he answered, 
" I had a wife and eight children, belonging to the Widow 
Slade." Harry gave the names of his wife and children: 
wife named Susan, children named Olive, Sabey, Washington, 
Daniel, Jonas, Harriet, Moses, Rosetta; the last-named he 
had never seen. Between my mistress and my master there 
was not much difference. 



79 

STORY OF GEORGE LAWS, OF DELAWARE. 

George represented the ordinary young slave-men of Dela- 
ware. He was of unmixed blood, medium size, and of humble 
appearance. He was destitute of the knowledge of spelling, 
to say nothing of reading. Slavery had stamped him unmis- 
takably for life, to be scantily fed and clothed, and compelled 
to work without hire. George did not admire that, but had 
to submit without murmuring. Indeed, he knew that his so- 
called master, whose name was Denny, would not be likely 
to heed complaints from a slave. He, therefore, dragged his 
chains, and yielded to his daily task. 

One day, while hauling dirt with a fractious horse, the 
animal manifested an unwillingness to perform his duty sat- 
isfactorily. At this procedure, the master charged George 
with provoking the beast to do wickedly, and in a rage he 
collared George, and bade him accompany him up the stairs 
of the soap-house. Not daring to resist, George went along 
with him. Ropes being tied around both his wrists, the 
block and tackle were fastened thereto, and George soon 
found himself hoisted on tiptoe, with his feet .almost clear of 
the floor. The kind-hearted master then tore all the poor 
fellow's old shirt off his back, and addressed him thus : "You 
son of a b — h, I will give you, pouting around me. Stay 
there till I go up town for my cowhide." George begged 
piteously, but in vain. The fracas caused some excitement, 
and it so happened that a show was exhibited that day in the 
town, which, as is usual in the country, brought a great many 
people from a distance. So, to his surprise, when the master 
returned with his cowhide, he found that a large number of 
curiosity-seekers had been attracted to the soap-house to see 
Mr. Denny perform with his cowhide on George's back, as 
he was stretched up by his hands. Many had evidently made 
up their minds that it would be more amusing to see the 
cowhiding than the circus. The spectators numbered about 
three hundred. This was a larger number than Mr. Denny 
had been accustomed to perform before, consequently he 
was seized with embarrassment. Looking confused, he left 
the soap-house, and went to his office to await the dispersion 
of the crowd. The throng finally retired, and left George 
hanging in mortal agony. Human nature here made a death- 



8o 

struggle. The cords which bound his wrists were unloosed, 
and George was then prepared to strike for freedom, at the 
mouth of the cannon or at the point of the bayonet. How 
Denny regarded the matter, when he found that George had 
not only cheated him out of the anticipated delight of cow- 
hiding him, but had also cheated him out of himself, is left 
for the imagination to picture. 



PETER MATHEWS, alias SAMUEL SPARROW. 

Up to the age of thirty-five, Pete had worn the yoke steadily, 
if not patiently, under William S. Mathews, of Oak Hall, near 
Temperanceville, in the State of Virginia. Pete said that his 
master was not a hard man, but the man to whom he was 
hired, George Mathews, was a very cruel man. " I might as 
well be in the penitentiary as in his hands," was his declara- 
tion one day. A short while before, Pete took out an ox, 
which had broke into the truck-patch and helped himself to 
choice delicacies, to the full extent of his capacious stomach, 
making sad havoc with the vegetables generally. Peter's 
attention being directed to the ox, he turned him out and gave 
him what he considered proper chastisement. According to 
the mischief done at this liberty taken by Pete, the master 
became furious. He got his gun and threatened to shoot him. 
" Open your mouth if you dare, and I will put the whole load 
in you," said the enraged master. " He took out a large dirk- 
knife, and attempted to stab me, but I kept out of his way," 
said Pete. Nevertheless, the violence of the master did not 
abate until he had beaten Pete over the head and body until 
he was very weary with inflicting severe injuries. A great 
change was at once wrought into Pete's mind. He was now 
ready to adopt any plan that might hold out the least en- 
couragement to escape. Having capital to the amount of 
four dollars only, he felt that he could not do much towards 



8i 

employing a conductor, but he had a good pair of legs, and a 
heart stout enough to whip two or three slave-catchers with 
the help of a pistol. Happening to know who had a pistol 
for sale, he went to him and told him that he wished to 
purchase it for one dollar. The pistol became Pete's prop- 
erty. He had but three dollars left, but he was determined 
to make that amount answer his purposes, under the circum- 
stances. The last cruel beating maddened him almost to 
desperation, especially when he remembered how he had 
been compelled to work hard night and day, under Mathews. 
Then, too, Peter had a wife, whom his master prevented him 
from visiting. This was not among the least offences with which 
Pete charged his master. Fully bent on leaving, the following 
Sunday was fixed by him on which to commence his journey. 
The time arrived, and Pete bade farewell to slavery, re- 
solved to follow the North Star, with his pistol in hand, 
ready for action. After traveling about two hundred miles 
from home, he unexpectedly had an opportunity of using his 
pistol. To his astonishment, he suddenly came face to face 
with a former master, whom he had not seen for a long time. 
Peter desired no friendly intercourse with him whatever, but 
he perceived that his old master recognized him, and was 
bent on stopping him. Pete held on to his pistol, but moved, 
as fast as his wearied limbs would allow him, in an opposite 
direction. As he was running, Pete cautiously cast his eye 
over his shoulder, to see what had become of his old master, 
when, to his amazement, he found that a regular chase was 
being made after him. The necessity of redoubling his pace 
was quite obvious in this hour of peril. Pete's legs saved 
him. After this signal leg-victory, Pete had more confidence 
in his understanding than he had in his old pistol, although 
he held on to it until he reached Philadelphia, where he left 
it in possession of the secretary of the Committee of the 
Underground Railroad. Pete was christened Samuel Spar- 
row. Mr. Sparrow had the rust of Slavery washed off as 
clean as possible, and the Committee, furnishing him with 
clean clothes, a ticket, and a letter of introduction, started 
him on to Canada, looking quite respectable. The unpleas- 
antness which grew out of the mischief done by the ox on 
George Mathews' farm, took place the first of October, 1833. 



82 

STORY OF LEAH GREEN. 
Leah Green, so particularly advertised in the Baltimore 
Sun by James Noble, won for herself a strong claim to a high 
place among the heroic women of the nineteenth century. 
In regard to description and age the advertisement is tolera- 
bly accurate, although her master might have added that her 
countenance was one of peculiar modesty and grace, instead 
of saying she was of a dark brown color. Of her bondage, 
she made the following statement : She was owned by James 
Noble, a butter dealer of Baltimore. He fell heir to Leah 
by the will of his wife's mother, Mrs. Rachel Howard, by 
whom she had been previously owned. Leah was but a mere 
child when she came into the hands of Noble's family. She, 
therefore, remembered but little of her old mistress. Her 
young mistress, however, had made a lasting impression on 
her mind, for she was very exacting and oppressive in regard 
to the tasks she was daily in the habit of laying on Leah's 
shoulders, with no disposition whatever to allow her any lib- 
erties. At least, Leah was never indulged in this respect. 
In this situation, a young man, by the name of William Ad- 
ams, proposed marriage to her. This offer she was inclined 
to accept, but disliked the idea of being encumbered with 
the chains of slavery and the duties of a family at the same 
time. After a full consultation with her mother, and also 
her intended, upon the matter, she decided that she must be 
free in order to fill the station of a wife and mother. For a 
time dangers and difficulties in the way of escape seemed 
utterly to set at defiance all hope of success. Whilst every 
pulse was beating strong for liberty, only one chance seemed 
to be left. The trial required as much courage as it would 
to endure the cutting off of the right arm or plucking out 
the right eye. An old chest, of substantial make, such as 
sailors commonly use, was procured. A quilt, a pillow, and 
a few articles of raiment, together with a small quantity of 
food and a bottle of water were put in it, and Leah placed 
therein. Strong ropes were fastened around the chest, and 
she was safely stowed amongst the ordinary freight, on one 
of the Erricson line of steamers. Her interested mother, 
who was a free woman, agreed to come as a passenger on the 
same boat. How could she refuse } The prescribed rules of 



83 

the company assigned colored passengers to the deck. In this 
instance, it was exactly where this guardian and mother de- 
sired to be — as near the chest as possible. Once or twice, 
during the silent watches of the night, she was drawn irre- 
sistibly to the chest, and could not refrain from venturing to 
untie the rope and raise the lid a little, to see if the poor 
child lived, and, at the same time, to give her a breath of 
fresh air. Without uttering a whisper at that frightful mo- 
ment, this office was successfully performed. That the silent 
prayers of this oppressed young woman, together with her 
faithful protector, were momentarily ascending to the ear of 
the good God above, there can be no doubt. Nor is it to be 
doubted for a moment but that some ministering angel aided 
the mother to unfasten the rope, and at the same time, 
nerved the heart of poor Leah to endure the trying ordeal of 
her perilous situation. She declared that she had no fear 
after she had passed eighteen hours in the chest. The 
steamer arrived at the wharf in Philadelphia, and, in due 
time, the living freight was brought off the boat, and at first 
was delivered at a house in Barley street, occupied by par- 
ticular friends of the mother. Subsequently, chest and 
freight were removed to the residence of a friend, in whose 
family she remained several days, under the protection and 
care of the Vigilance Committee. 

Such hungering and thirsting for liberty as was evinced 
by Leah Green, made the efforts of the most ardent, who were 
in the habit of aiding fugitives, seem feeble in the extreme. 
Of all the heroes in Canada, or out of it, who have purchased 
their liberty by downright bravery, through perils the most 
hazardous, none deserve more praise than Leah Green. 

She remained for a time in this family and was then for- 
warded to Elmira. In this place she was married to William 
Adams, who has been previously alluded to. They never 
went to Canada, but took up their permanent abode in El- 
mira. The brief space of about three years only was allotted 
her in which to enjoy her freedom, as death came and ter- 
minated her career. The impressions made by both mother and 
daughter can never be effaced. The chest in which Leah 
escaped has been preserved by the writer, as a rare trophy, 
and her photograph, taken while in the chest, is an excellent 
likeness of her, and, at the same time, a fitting memorial. 



84 

LIBERTY; OR JIM BOW- LEGS. 
In 1855 a trader arrived with the above name, who, on ex- 
amination, was found to possess very extraordinary charac- 
teristics. As a hero and adventurer, some passages of his 
history were most remarkable. His schooling had been such 
as could only be gathered on plantations under brutal over- 
seers, or while fleeing, or in swamps, in prisons, or on the 
auction-block, in which condition he was often found. Nev- 
ertheless, in these circumstances, his mind got well 
stored with vigorous thoughts, neither books nor friendly ad- 
visers being at his command, yet his native intelligence, as it 
regarded human nature, was extraordinary. His resolution 
and perseverance never faltered. In all respects he was a 
remarkable man. He was a young man, weighing about 180 
pounds, of uncommon muscular strength. He was born in 
the State of Georgia, Oglethorpe county, and was owned by 
Dr. Thomas Stephens, of Lexington. On reaching the Vigi- 
lance Committee in Philadelphia his story was told, many 
times over, to one and another. Taking all of the facts into 
consideration respecting the courageous career of this suc- 
cessful adventurer for freedom, his case is by far more inter- 
esting than any that I have yet referred to. Indeed, for the 
good of the cause, and the honor of one who gained his lib- 
erty by periling his life so frequently, being shot several 
times, making six unsuccessful attempts to escape from the 
South, numberless times chased by bloodhounds, captured, 
sold and miprisoned repeatedly, living for months in the 
woods, swamps, and caves, subsisting mainly on parched 
corn and berries. His narrative ought, by all means, to be 
pubhshed, though I doubt very much whether many could 
be found who could persuade themselves to believe one-tenth 
part of this story. 

His master, finding him not available on account of his 
absconding propensities, would gladly have offered him for 
sale. He was once taken to Florida for that purpose, but, 
generally, traders being wide awake, on inspecting him, 
would almost invariably pronounce him a damn rascal, be- 
cause he would never fail to eye them sternly as they in- 
spected him. The obedient and submissive slave is always 
recognized by hanging his head, and looking on the ground 



85 

when looked at by a slaveholder. This lesson Jim Hall 
never learned. Hence he was not trusted. His head and 
chest, and, indeed, his entire structure, as solid as a rock, 
indicated that, physically, he was no ordinary man, and not 
being under the influence of non-resistance, he had occasion- 
ally been found to be rather a formidable customer. His 
father was a full-blooded Indian, brother to the noted Chief, 
Billy Bow-Legs. His mother was quite black, and of un- 
mixed blood. For five or six years, the greater part of Jim's 
time was occupied in trying to escape, and being in prison, 
and for sale, to punish him for running away. 

His mechanical genius was excellent, so was his geograph- 
ical abilities. He could make shoes, or do carpenter work 
handilv though he had never had a chance to learn. As 

•^ 1 1 

to traveling by night or day, he was always road-ready, and 
having an uncommon memory, could give exceedingly good 
accounts of what he saw. When he entered a swamp, and 
had occasion to take a nap, he took care, first, to decide upon 
the posture he must take, so that, if come upon unexpectedly 
by the hounds and slave-hunters, he might know, in an in- 
stant, which way to steer to defeat them. He always car- 
ried a liquid which he had prepared to prevent hounds 
from scenting him, which he said had never failed him. As 
soon as the hounds came on to the spot where he had rubbed 
his legs and feet with said liquid, they could follow him 
no further, but howled and turned immediately. A large 
number of friends of the slave saw this man, and would sit 
long and listen with the most undivided attention to his 
narrative, none doubting for a moment its entire truthful- 
ness. Strange as this story was, there was so much natural 
simplicity in his manners and countenance, one could not 
refrain from believing him. 



86 

ABRAM GALOWAY AND RICHARD EASLER. 

The Philadelphia branch of the U. G. R. R. was not for- 
tunate in having very frequent arrivals from North Carolina, 
for such of her slaves as were sensible enough to travel 
north, found out nearer and safer routes than through Penn- 
sylvania. Nevertheless, the Vigilance Committee had the 
pleasure of receiving some heroes who were worthy to be 
classed among the bravest of the brave. No matter who 
they may be who have claims to this distinction, in proof of 
this bold assertion, the two individuals whose names stand 
at the beginning of this article are presented. Abram was 
only twenty-one years of age, mulatto, five feet six inches in 
height, intelligent, and a perfect picture of good health. 
"What was your master's name .-' " "Milton Hawkins," 
answered Abram. "What business did he follow.-'" "He 
was chief engineer on the Wilmington Railroad ; not a 
branch of the U. G. R. R.," responded Abram. " Describe 
him," said the members, " He was a slim-built, tall man, 
with whiskers ; he was a man of very good disposition. I 
always belonged to him. He owned three slaves. He always 
said that he would sell before he would use a whip. His 
wife was a very mean woman. She would whip contrary to 
his orders." "Who was your father.-* "was further inquired. 
"John W. Galoway." "Describe your father." "He was 
captain of a government vessel. He recognized me as his 
son, and protected me as far as he was allowed so to do. He 
lived at Smithville, North Carolina. Abram's master, Milton 
Hawkins, lived at Wilmington, N. C." "What prompted 
you to escape .-' " was next asked. " Because times were 
hard, and I could not come up with my wages as I was re- 
quired to do. So I thought I would try and do better." At 
this juncture Abram explained in what sense times were 
hard. In the first place, he was not allowed to own himself; 
he, however, prospered, hiring his time to service in the 
usual way. This favor was granted Abram, but he was 
compelled to pay ^15 per month for his time, besides finding 
himself in clothing, food, paying doctor's bill, and per year 
head-tax. 

Even under this master, who was a man of very good dis- 
position, Abram was not contented. In the second place. 



87 

he always thought slavery was wrong, although he had never 
suffered any personal abuse — toiling month after month, the 
year round, for the support of his master, and not himself, 
was the one intolerable thought. 

Abram and Richard were intimate friends, and lived near 
each other. Being similarly situated, they could venture to 
communicate the secret feelings of their hearts to each other, 
kichard was four years older than Abram, with not so much 
Anglo Saxon blood in his veins, but was equally as intelli- 
gent, and was by trade a fashionable barber, well known to 
the ladies and gentlemen of Wilmington. Richard owed 
service to Mrs. Mary Learen, a widow ; she was very kind 
and tender to all of her slaves. " If I was sick," said Richard, 
"she would treat me the same way that my mother would," 
She was the owner of twenty men, women, and children, 
who were all hired out, except the children too young for 
hire. Besides having his food, clothing, and doctor's ex- 
penses to meet, he had to pay the very kind widow ^12.50 
per month, and head-tax to the State of twenty-five cents 
per month. It so happened that Richard, at this time, was 
involved in a matrimonial affair. Contrary to the laws of 
North Carolina, he had lately married a free girl, which was 
an indictable offence, and for which the penalty was then in 
soak for him, said penalty to consist of thirty-nine lashes 
and imprisonment at the discretion of the Judge. 

So Abram and Richard put their heads together, and re- 
solved to try the U. G. R. R. They concluded that liberty 
was worth dying for, and that it was their duty to strike for 
freedom, even if it should cost their lives. The next thing 
needed was information about the U. G. R. R. Before a 
great while the captain of a schooner turned up, from Wil- 
mington, Delaware. Learning that his voyage extended to 
Philadelphia, they sought to find out whether this captain 
was true to freedom. To ascertain this fact required no little 
address. It had to be done in such a way that even the 
captain would not really understand what they were up to, 
should he be found untrue. In this instance, however, he was 
the right man in the right place, and very well understood 
his business. Abram and Richard made arrangements with 
him to bring them away. They learned when the vessel 



would start, and that she was loaded with tar, rosin, and 
spirits of turpentine, amongst which the captain was to secrete 
them. But here came the difficulty. In order that slaves 
might not be secreted in vessels, the slaveholders of North 
Carolina had procured the enactment of a law requiring all 
vessels coming North to be smoked. To escape this dilemma, 
the inventive genius of Abram and Richard soon devised a 
safeguard against the smoke. This safeguard consisted in 
silk oil-cloth shrouds, made large, with drawing-strings, 
which, when pulled over their heads, might be drawn very 
tightly around their waists. Whilst the process of smoking 
might be in operation, a bladder of water and lowels were 
provided — the latter to be wet and held to their nostrils, 
should there be need. In this manner they had determined 
to struggle against death for liberty. 

The hour approached for being at the wharf. At the ap- 
pointed time they were on hand, ready to go on the boat. 
The captain secreted them, according to agreement. They 
were ready to run the risk of being smoked to death ; but, as 
good luck would have it, the law was not carried into effect 
in this instance, so that the smell of the smoke was not upon 
them. The effect of the turpentine, however, of the nature 
of which they were totally ignorant, was worse, if possible, 
than the smoke would have been ; the blood was literally 
drawn from them at every pore in frightful quantities ; but, 
as heroes of the bravest type, they resolved to continue 
steadfast as long as a pulse continued to beat, and thus they 
finally conquered. 

The invigorating northern air and the kind treatment of 
the Vigilance Committee acted like a charm upon them, and 
they improved very rapidly from their exhaustive and heavy 
loss of blood. Desiring to retain some memorial of them, a 
member of the committee begged one of their silk shrouds, 
and likewise procured an artist to take the photograph of 
one of them, which keepsake has been valued very highly. 
In the regular order the wants of Abram and Richard were 
duly met by the committee, financially and otherwise, and 
they were forwarded to Canada. 



89 

TWO FEMALES FROM MARYLAND— ANN JOHN- 
SON AND LAVINA WOOLFLEY. 

As the way of travel by the U. G. R. R., under the most 
favorable circumstances, even for the sterner sex, was hard 
enough to test the strongest nerves and to try the faith of 
the bravest of the brave, every woman that won her freedom 
by this perilous undertaking deserves commemoration. It is, 
therefore, a pleasure to thus transfer from the Old Record 
Book the names of Ann Johnson and Lavina Woolfley, who 
fled from Maryland in 1857. Their lives, however, had not 
been in any way very remarkable. Ann was tall, and of a 
dark chestnut color, with an intelligent countenance, and 
about twenty-four years of age. She had filled various 
situations as a slave. Sometimes she was required to serve in 
the kitchen, at other times she was required to toil in the 
field with the plow, hoe, and the like. 

Samuel Harrington, of Cambridge District, Maryland, was 
the name of the man for whose benefit Ann labored during 
her young days. She had no hesitation in saying that he 
was a very ill-natured man. He, however, was a member of 
the old-time Methodist Church. In slave property he had 
invested only to the extent of five or six head. About 
three years previous to Ann's escape, one of her brothers 
fled and went to Canada. This circumstance so enraged the 
owner, that he declared he would sell all he owned. Accord- 
ingly, Ann was soon put on the auction block, and was bought 
by a man who went by the name of William Moore. Moore 
was a married man, who, with his wife, was addicted to in- 
temperance and carousing. Ann found that she had simply 
got out of the fire into the frying-pan. She was really at a 
loss to tell when her lot was the hardest, whether under the 
rum-drinker or the old-time Methodist. In this state of mind, 
she decided to leave all and go to Canada, the refuge for the 
fleeing bondman. Lavina, Ann's companion, was the wife 
of James Woolfley ; she and her husband set out, together with 
six others, and were of the party of eight who were betrayed 
into Dover Jail, and after fighting their way out of the jail, 
they separated, for prudential reasons. The husband of 
Lavina, immediately after the conflict at the jail, passed on 



90 

to Canada, leaving his wife under the protection of friends. 
Since that time several months had elapsed, but of each other 
nothing had been known, before she received information on 
her arrival at Philadelphia. The committee were glad to in- 
form her that her husband had safely passed on to Canada, 
and that she would be aided on also, where they could enjoy 
freedom in a free country. 



WILLIAM AND ELLEN CRAFT. 

A quarter of a century ago, William and Ellen Craft were 
slaves in the State of Georgia. With them, as with thousands 
of others, the desire to be free was very strong. For this 
jewel they were willing to make any sacrifice, or to en- 
dure any amount of suffering. In this state of mind, they 
commenced planning. After thinking of various ways that 
might be tried, it occurred to William and Ellen that one 
might act the part of master and the other the part of servant. 
Ellen being very fair, enough so to pass for white, of neces- 
sity would have to be transformed into a young planter, for 
the time being. All that was needed, however, to make this 
important change was, that she should be dressed elegantly 
in a fashionable suit of male attire, and have her hair cut in 
the style usually worn by young planters. Her profusion of 
dark hair offered a fine opportunity for the change. So far, 
this plan looked very tempting, but it occurred to them that 
Ellen was beardless. After some mature reflection, they 
came to the conclusion that this difficulty could be very 
readily obviated by having the face muffled up, as though the 
young planter was suffering badly with the face or toothache. 
Thus they got rid of this trouble straightway. Upon further 
reflection, several other serious difficulties stared them in the 
face. For instance, in traveling, they knew that they would 
be under the necessity of stopping repeatedly at hotels, and 



91 

that the custom of registering would have to be conformed 
to, unless some very good excuse could be given for not doing 
so. Here they again thought much over the matter, and 
wisely concluded that the young man had better assume the 
attitude of a gentleman very much indisposed. He must 
have his right arm placed carefully in a sling ; that would be 
sufBcient excuse for not registering ; then he must be a little 
lame, with a nice cane in his left hand. He must have large 
green spectacles over his eyes, and withal he must be very 
Iiard of hearing, and dependent on his faithful servant, as 
was no uncommon thing with slaveholders. To look after all 
his wants, William was just the man to act his part. To 
begin with, he was very likely looking, smart, active, and ex- 
ceedingly attentive to his young master. Indeed, he was 
almost eyes, ears, hands and feet for him. William knew 
that this would please the slaveholders. The young planter 
would have nothing to do but hold himself subject to his ail- 
ments and put on a bold superiority. He was not to deign 
to notice anybody. If, while traveling, gentlemen, either 
politely or rudely, should venture to scrape acquaintance with 
the young planter, in his deafness he was to remain mute. 
The servant was to explain, in every instance, when this oc- 
curred, as it actually did. 

The servant was equal to the emergency, none dreaming of 
the disguise in which the Underground Railroad passengers 
were traveling. They stopped at a first-class hotel in Charles- 
ton, where the young planter and his body-servant were treat- 
ed as the house was wont to treat the chivalry. They stopped 
at a similar hotel in Richmond, and with like results. They 
knew that they must pass through Baltimore, but they did 
not know the obstacles that they would have to surmount in 
the Monumental City. They proceeded to the depot in the 
usual manner, and the servant asked for tickets for his mas- 
ter and self. Of course the master could have a ticket, 
"but bonds will have to be entered before you can get a 
ticket," said the ticket-master. " It is the rule of this office 
to require bonds for all negroes applying for tickets to go 
North, and none but gentlemen of well-known responsibility 
will be taken," further explained the ticket-master. The 
servant replied that he knew nothing about that ; that he was 



92 

simply traveling with his young master to take care of him, 
he being in a very delicate state of health, so much so that 
fears were entertained that he might not be able to hold out 
to reach Philadelphia, where he was hastening for medical 
treatment ; and ended his reply by saying, "My master can't 
be detained." Without further parley the ticket-master very 
obligingly waived the old rule, and furnished the requisite 
tickets. The mountain being thus removed, the young 
planter and his faithful servant were safely in the cars for 
the City of Brotherly Love. Scarcely had they arrived on 
free soil, when the rheumatism departed, the right arm was 
unslung, the toothache was gone, the beardless face was un- 
muffled, the deaf heard and spoke, the blind saw, and the 
lame leaped as a hart, and, in the presence of a few aston- 
ished friends of the slave, the facts of this unparalleled 
Underground Railroad feat was fully established by the most 
unquestionable evidence. 

The constant strain and pressure on Ellen's nerves, how- 
ever, had tried her severely, so much so, that for days after- 
wards she was physically very much prostrated, although joy 
and gladness beamed from her eyes, which spoke inexpressible 
delight. Never can the writer forget the impressions made 
by their arrival. Even now, after a lapse of nearly twenty- 
five years, it is easy to picture them in a private room, sur- 
rounded by a few friends. Ellen, in her fine suit of black, 
with her cloak and high-heeled boots, looking in every respect 
hke a young gentleman. In an hour after, having dropped 
her male attire and assumed the habiliments of her sex, the 
feminine only was visible in every line and feature of her 
structure. Her husband, William, was thoroughly colored, 
but was a man of marked natural abilities, of good manners, 
and full of pluck, and possessed of perceptive faculties very 
large. 

It was necessary, however, in those days, that they should 
seek a permanent residence, where their freedom would be 
more secure than in Philadelphia. Therefore, they were ad- 
vised to go to headquarters, directly, to Boston. There they 
would be safe, it was supposed, as it had then been about a 
generation since a fugitive had been taken back from the old 
Bay State, and through the incessant labors of William Lloyd 



93 

Garrison, the great pioneer, and his faithful coadjutors, it 
was conceded that another fugitive slave case could never be 
tolerated on the free soil of Massachusetts. So to Boston 
they went. On arriving, the warm hearts of abolitionists 
welcomed them heartily, and greeted them and cheered them, 
without let or hindrance. They did not pretend to keep their 
coming a secret, or to hide it under a bushel. The story of 
their escape was heralded, broadcast, over the country, North 
and South, and, indeed, over the civilized world. For two 
years or more not the slightest fear was entertained that 
they were not just as safe in Boston as if they had gone to 
Canada, but the day the Fugitive Bill passed, even the 
bravest abolitionists began to fear that a fugitive slave was 
no longer safe under the stars and stripes. North and 
South, and William and Ellen Craft were liable to be cap- 
tured at any moment, by Georgia slave-hunters. Many abo- 
litionists counseled resistance to the death, at all hazards. 
Instead of running to Canada, fugitives generally armed them- 
selves, and thus said, *' Give me liberty or give me death." 
William and Ellen Craft believed that it was their duty, as 
citizens of Massachusetts, to observe a more legal and civil- 
ized mode of conforming to the marriage rite than had been 
permitted them in slavery, and as Theodore Parker had 
shown himself a very warm friend of theirs, they agreed to 
have their wedding over again, according to the laws of a 
free State. After performing the ceremony, the renowned 
and fearless advocate of equal rights, Theodore Parker, pre- 
sented William with a revolver and a dirk-knife, counseling 
him to use them manfully in defense of his wife and himself, 
if ever an attempt should be made by his owners, or any- 
body else, to re-enslave them. But notwithstanding all the- 
published declarations made by abolitionists and fugitives to 
the effect that slaveholders and slave-catchers in visiting 
Massachusetts in pursuit of their runaway slaves, would be 
met by just such weapons as Theodore Parker presented 
William with, to the surprise of all Boston, the owners of 
William and Ellen actually had the effrontery to attempt 
their recapture under the Fugitive Slave Law. How it was 
done, and the results, are taken from the old Liberator, 
William Lloyd Garrison's organ. We copy as follows : 



94 

Slave-Hunters in Boston. — Our city, for a week past, 
has been thrown into a state of intense excitement by the 
appearance of two prowling villains, named Hughes and 
Knight, from Macon, Georgia, for the purpose of seizing 
William and Ellen Craft, under the infernal Fugitive Slave 
Bill, and carrying them back to the hell of slavery. Since the 
days of '^6 there has not been such a popular demonstration 
on the side of human freedom in this region. 

The humane and patriotic contagion has infected all 
classes. Scarcely any other subject has been talked about in 
the streets or in the social circle. On Thursday of last week 
warrants for the arrest of William and Ellen were issued by 
Judge Levi Woodbury, but no officer has yet been found 
ready or bold enough to serve them. In the meantime, the 
Vigilance Committee appointed at the Fanueil Hall meeting 
has not been idle. Their number has been increased to up- 
wards of a hundred good men and true, including some thirty 
or forty members of the bar, and they have been in constant 
session, devising every legal method to baffle the pursuing 
bloodhounds, and relieve the city of their hateful presence. 
On Saturday placards were posted up in all directions, an- 
nouncing the arrival of these slave-hunters, and describing 
their persons. On the same day Hughes and Knight were 
arrested, on a charge of slander against William and Ellen 
Craft, the Chronotype says, the damage being laid at ^10,000. 
Bail was demanded in the same sum and promptly furnished 
— by whom is the question. An immense crowd was assem- 
bled in front of the Sheriff's office. While the bail matter 
was being arranged, the reporters were not admitted. It 
was only known that Wa,tson Freeman, who once declared 
his readiness to hang any number of negroes remarkably 
cheap, came in, saying that the arrest was a sham, all a hum- 
bug — the trick of the damned abolitionists, and proclaimed 
his readiness to stand bail. John H. Pearsons was also sent 
for and came. The same John H. Pearsons, merchant and 
Southern Packet agent, who immortalized himself by send- 
ing back, on the loth of September, 1846, in the bark Niag- 
ara, a poor fugitive slave, who came secreted in the brig 
Ottoman, from New Orleans, being himself judge, jury, and 
executioner, to consign a fellow-being to a life of bondage, in 



95 

obedience to the law of a slave State, and in violation of the 
law of his own. This same John H. Pearsons, not contented 
with his previous infamy, was on hand. There is a story that 
the slave-hunters have been his table-guests also, and whether 
he bailed them or not we don't know. What we know is, 
that soon after Pearsons came out from the back room, where 
he and Knight and the Sheriff had been closeted, the Sheriff 
said that Knight was bailed. He would not say by whom. 
Knight, being looked after, was not to be found. He had 
slipped out through a back door, and thus cheated the crowd 
of the pleasure of greeting him, possibly with that rough- 
and-ready affection which Barclay's brewers bestowed on 
Haynau. The escape was very fortunate, every way, Hughes 
and Knight have since been twice arrested and put under 
bonds of ^10,000, making thirty thousand in all, charged 
with conspiracy to kidnap and abduct William and Ellen 
Craft, a peaceable citizen of Massachusetts, etc. Bail was 
entered by Hamilton Willis, of Willis & Co., State street, 
and Patrick Riley, United States Deputy Marshal. The fol- 
lowing is a verbatim et literatim copy of the letter sent by 
Knight to Craft, to entice him to the United States Hotel, 
in order to kidnap him. It shows that the schoolmaster 
owes Knight more service and labor than it is possible for 
Craft to pay : 

Boston, October 22, 1850, 11 o'clock, p.m. 
William Craft: 

Sir — I have to leave so early in the morning that I could 
not call according to promise, so if you want me to carry a 
letter home with me, you must bring it to the United States 
Hotel to-morrow, and leave it in box 44, or come yourself to- 
morrow evening after tea, and bring it. Let me know if you 
come yourself by sending a note to box 44, U. S. Hotel, so 
that I may know whether to wait after tea or not, by the 
bearer. If your wife wants to see me you could bring her 
with you if you come yourself. John Knight. 

P. S. I shall leave for home early on Thursday morning. 

J. K. 

At a meeting of colored people held in Belknap Street 
Church, on Friday evening, the following resolutions were 
unanimously adopted. 



96 

Resolved. That God willed us free, man willed us slaves. 
We will as God wills. God's will be done. 

Resolved. That our oft-repeated determination to resist op- 
pression is the same now as ever, and we pledge ourselves, 
at all hazards, to resist unto death any attempt upon our 
liberties. 

Resolved. That as South Carolina seizes and imprisons 
colored seamen from the North, under the plea that it is to 
prevent insurrection and rebellion among her colored pop- 
ulation, the authorities of this State and City, in particular, 
be requested to lay hold of, and put in prison immediately, 
any and all fugitive slave-hunters who may be found among 
us, upon the same ground and for similar reasons. 

Spirited addresses of a most emphatic type were made by 
Messrs. Remond of Salem ; Roberts, Nell, Allen, of Bos- 
ton, and Davis of Plymouth. Individuals and highly respec- 
table committees of gentlemen have repeatedly waited up- 
on these Georgia miscreants to persuade them to make a 
speedy departure from the city. After promising to do so, 
and repeatedly falsifying their word, it is said that they left 
on Wednesday afternoon, in the express train for New York. 
And thus, says the Chronotype, they have gone off with their 
ears full of fleas, to fire the solemn word for the dissolution 
of the Union. 

Telegraphic intelligence is received that President Fill- 
more has announced his determination to sustain the Fugi- 
tive Slave Bill, at all hazards. Let him try. The fugitives, 
as well as the colored people generally, seem determined to 
carry out the spirit of the resolutions, to their fullest extent. 

Ellen first received information that the slave-hunters 
from Georgia were after her, through Mrs. George Hil- 
liard of Boston, who had been a good friend to her, from the 
day of her arrival from slavery. How Mrs. Hilliard ob- 
tained the information the impression is made on Ellen, and 
where she was secreted. The following extract of a letter 
written by Mrs. Hilliard, touching the memorable event, will 
be found deeply interesting : 

In regard to William and Ellen Craft, it is true that we re- 
ceived her at our house, when the first warrant, under the 
Act of eighteen hundred and forty, was issued. 



97 

Dr. Bowditch called upon us to say, that the warrant must 
be for William and Ellen, as they were the only fugitives 
here, known to have come from Georgia, and the Doctor 
asked what we could do. I went to the house of the Rev, 
F. S. Gray, on Mount Vernon street, where Ellen was work- 
ing with Miss Dean, an upholsteress, a friend of ours, who 
had told us she would teach Ellen her trade. I proposed to 
Ellen to come, and do some work for me. Intending not to 
alarm her, my manner, which I supposed to be indifferent 
and calm, betrayed me, and she threw herself into my arms, 
sobbing and weeping. She, however, recovered her compo- 
sure as soon as we reached the street, and was very firm ever 
after. 

My husband wished her, by all means, to be brought to 
our house, and remain under his protection, saying : " I am 
perfectly willing to meet the penalty, should she be found 
here, but will never give her up." The penalty, you remem- 
ber, was six months' imprisonment and a thousand dollars 
fine. William Craft went, after a time, to Lewis Hayden. 

He was, at first, as Dr. Bowditch told us, barricaded in 
his shop on Cambridge street. I saw him there and he said, 
"Ellen must not be left at your house." " Why, William," 
said I, " do you think we would give her up ? " " Never," 
said he, " but Mr. Hilliard is not only our friend but he is 
a U. S. Commissioner, and should Ellen be found in his 
house, he must resign his ofifice, as well as incur the penalty 
of the law, and I will not subject a friend to such a punish- 
ment for the sake of our safety." Was not this noble, when 
you think how small was the penalty that any one could 
receive for aiding slaves to escape, compared to the fate 
which threatened them in case they were recaptured ? Wil- 
liam made the same objection to having his wife taken to Mr. 
Ellis Gray Loring, he also being a friend and a Commissioner. 

This deed of humanity and Christian charity is worthy to 
be commemorated, and classed with the act of the good Sa- 
maritan, as the same spirit is shown in both cases. Often 
was Mrs. Milliard's house an asylum for fugitive slaves. 

After the hunters had left the city in dismay, and the 
storm of excitement had partially subsided, the friends of 
William and Ellen concluded that they had better seek a 



98 

country where they would not be in daily fear of slave- 
catchers, backed by the government of the United States. 
They were, therefore, advised to go to Great Britain. 

Outfits were liberally provided for them, passages procured, 
and they took their departure for a habitation in a foreign 
land. Much might be told concerning the warm reception 
they met with from the friends of humanity on every hand, 
during a stay in England of nearly a score of years, but we 
feel obliged to make the following extract suffice : 

Extract of a letter from Wm. Farmer, Esq., of London, to 
Wm. Lloyd Garrison. 
Fortunately we have, at the present moment, in the British 
Metropolis, some specimens of what were once American chat- 
tels personal, in the persons of William and Ellen Craft and 
William W. Brown, and their friends resolved that they 
should be exhibited under the world's huge glass case, in 
order that the world might form its opinion of the alleged 
mental inferiority of the African race and their fitness or un- 
fitness for freedom. A small company of anti-slavery friends 
were accordingly formed to accompany the fugitives through 
the Exhibition. Mr. and Mrs. Estlin, of Bristol, and a lady 
friend, Mr. and Mrs. Webb, of Dublin, and a son and daugh- 
ter, Mr. McDonnell, Mr. Thompson, Mrs. Thompson, Miss 
A. Thompson, and the Crafts and Brown proceeded to the 
Exhibition. 



BARNABY GRIGBY, alias JOHN BOYES, AND MARY 
ELIZABETH HIS WIFE, FRANK WANZER, alias 
ROBERT SCOTT, and EMILY FOSTER, alias 
ANN WOOD. 

All these persons journeyed from Loudoun county, Virginia, 
on horseback and carriage, for more than one hundred miles, 
availing themselves of a holiday and their masters' horses 
and carriage. They as deliberately started for Canada as 



99 

though they had never been taught that it was their duty, as 
servants, to obey their masters ; in this particular, showing 
a most utter disregard of the interests of their kind-hearted 
and indulgent owners. They left home on Monday, Christ- 
mas Eve, 1835, under the leadership of Frank Wanzer, and 
arrived in Columbia the following Wednesday, at one o'clock. 
As wilfully as they had thus made their way along, they had 
not found it smooth sailing, by any means. The biting frost 
and snow rendered their travel anything but agreeable. Nor 
did they escape the gnawings of hunger, traveling day and 
night, and whilst these articles were in the very act of running 
away with themselves and their kind masters' best horses and 
carriage, when about one hundred miles from home, in the 
neighborhood of Cheat river, Maryland, they were attacked 
by six white men and a boy, who, doubtless supposing that 
their intentions were of a wicked and unlawful character, felt 
it to be their duty, in kindness to their masters, if not to the 
travelers, to demand of them an account of themselves. In 
other words, their assailants positively commanded the fugi- 
tives to show what right they possessed to be found in a con- 
dition so unwarranted. 

The spokesman among the: fugitives, affecting no ordinary 
amount of dignity, told their opponents that no gentleman 
would interfere with persons riding along civilly, not allowing 
it to be supposed that they were slaves, of course. 

These gentlemen, however, were not willing to accept this 
account of the travelers, as their very decided steps indi- 
cated. Having the law on their side, they were for com- 
pelling the fugitives to surrender, without further parley. 

At this juncture, the fugitives, verily believing that the time 
had arrived for the practical use of their pistols and dirks, 
pulled them out of their concealment, the young women as 
well as the men, and declared they would not be taken. 
One of the white men raised his gun, pointing the muzzle 
directly towards one of the young women, with the threat 
that he would shoot, etc. "Shoot, shoot, shoot!" she ex- 
claimed, with a double-barreled pistol in one hand and a long 
dirk-knife in the other, utterly unterrified and fully ready for 
a death-struggle. The male leader of the fugitives, by this 
time, had pulled back the hammers of his pistols, and was 



100 

about to fire. Their adversaries, seeing the weapons and the 
unflinching determination on the part of the runaways to 
stand their ground, spill blood, kill or die rather than be 
taken, very prudently sidled over to the other side of the 
road, leaving four of the victors to travel on their way. At 
this moment, the four in the carriage lost sight of the two on 
horseback. Soon after the separation they heard firing, but 
what the result was they knew not. They were fearful, how- 
ever, that their companions had been captured. 

A paragraph from a Southern paper leaves no room to 
doubt as to the fate of the two: "Six fugitive slaves from 
Virginia were arrested at the Maryland line near Hood's 
Mill, on Christmas Day, but, after a severe fight, four of 
them escaped, and have not been heard from since. They 
came from Loudoun and Fauquier Counties." 

Though the four who were successful saw no severe fight, 
it is not unreasonable to suppose that there was a fight, but 
not till after the number of the fugitives had been reduced to 
two instead of six. As chivalrous as slave-holders and slave- 
catchers were, they knew the value of their precious lives, 
and the fearful risk of attempting a capture when the numbers 
were equal. The party in the carriage, after the conflict, 
went on their way rejoicing. 

The young men, one cold night, when they were compelled 
to take rest in the woods and snow, in vain strove to keep the 
feet of their female companions from freezing, by laying on 
them, but the frost was merciless, and bit them severely, as 
their feet plainly showed. 

The following disjointed report was cut from the Frederick, 
Md., Examiner, soon after the occurrence : 

" Six slaves, four men and two women, fugitives from Vir- 
ginia, having with them two spring wagons and four horses, 
came to Hood's Mill, on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, 
near the dividing line between Frederick and Carroll coun- 
ties, on Christmas Day. After feeding their animals, one of 
them told a Mr. Dixon whence they came. Believing them to 
be fugitives, he spread the alarm, and some eight or ten per- 
sons gathered around to arrest them, but the negroes, draw- 
ing revolvers and bowie knives, kept their assailants at bay, 
until five of the parties succeeded in escaping in one of the 



lOI 



wagons, and, as the last one jumped on a horse to flee, he 
was fired on, the load taking effect in the small of the back. 
The prisoner says he belongs to Charles W. Simpson, of Fau- 
quier county, Va., and ran away with the others the preced- 
ing evening." 

This report from the Examiner, while it is not wholly cor- 
rect, evidently relates to the fugitives above described. 
Why the reporters made such glaring mistakes may be ac- 
counted for on the ground that the bold stand made by the 
fugitives was so bewildering and alarming that the assailants 
were not in a condition to make correct statements. We give 
it for what it is worth. 



STOCKHOLDERS IN THE U. G. R. R. 

I will give you the names of a few wealthy stockholders of 
the Anglo-Saxon race: 

A. C. Walton, of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. 
Daniel Gibbons, 
Michael Whitson, 
Thad. Stevens, 
Wm. Rickstraw, 

Clarkson Browsier, " '* " 

Lucretia Mott. Philadelphia. 
Mayland Brosier, Chester, Penn'a, who has a son, Mayland 

Brosier, Jr., who is a Senator at the present time. 
John Broomer, of Chester County, Penn'a. 
Edward Brosier, of Court Square, Chester County. 
Horace Greeley, of New York. 

Let me give you a few names of the African stockholders : 

Raf. Gillmer, of Lancaster City, Penn'a. 

Wm. Smith, of Chester 

Chas. Martin, of Lancaster " " 

Nelson Wiggins, of New Garden. 

Dr. Barrs, of Philadelphia. 

Jacob Gibbs, of Baltimore. 

John Brown, of Virginia. 

Dr. McEwen Smith, of New York. 

George Williams, of Little Briton. 



102 



A FEW ITEMS ON SPIRITUALISM. 

Now, I am going to give you a few items on Spiritualism. 
I have heard, from the age of a boy up to the present time, 
that when a man died he had the power to return to this 
world in the form of a spirit. I deny it. I am surprised that 
such intelligent people will keep up such a belief, and instil 
it in the minds of the youth, in these enlightened times. 
What ! tell me that a man has power to come back into this 
world in the form of a spirit .'* Don't believe it. There are but 
the two places, Hell or Heaven, when a man dies, and when 
his soul goes to Heaven, he don't want to go back, and when 
he gets to Hell, the Devil gets hold of him, and he has no 
chance to get back again. Yes, writer, but did you not hear* 
at the time that Christ was crucified, that the dead saints got 
up and walked on the earth.? Ah, reader, is anything impos- 
sible for God to do ? That was God's doing. He had power 
to raise his own life and power to lay it down, and power to 
raise the dead saints at His crucifixion. My humble belief is, 
that God is a Spirit, and without him there is no other spirit 
that has power to visit the earth. Yes, says one, we have 
mediums who have power to raise the spirits. Those mediums 
are nothing but sleight-of-hand work and electricity. It causes 
the table to rock. Until they raise a spirit and bring it be- 
fore me, I, the writer of this book, will not believe it ; and I 
advise others not to believe it. Let me tell you about a ghost 
story, A certain man used to gather hickory nuts, and store 
them away in his loft, and would give them to nobody. When 
they asked him for some, he said, " No. What I can't eat, I 
want the people to put the remaining in my grave." So when 
he died they did so. So two men concluded to go and steal 
sheep one night. One of them had some hickory nuts and a 
hammer in his pocket. Going through the woods, he came 
across this graveyard, and sitting down on the tombstone, be- 
gan to crack his hickory nuts, and said to his partner, " I will 
stay here and keep watch, while you go down and see where 
the sheep are." In the meantime a carpenter came by, who 
lived not far from the graveyard. He came unto his partner 
very much alarmed, saying, " I have heard very much about 
the old man cracking hickory nuts, but to-night I saw it with 





Page 107. 




Page 108. 




Page 113. 




Page 115. 



105 

my own eyes ;" and his partner, who was sick with the 
rheumatism for a long time, answered, " I won't believe it 
unless I see it with my own eyes." He said, "Just get on my 
back, and I will carry you out there and show him to you." 
As they were going along by some bushes, he said, " Don't 
you hear him ?" " Yes, but I want to see him. Take me a 
little further." And he carried him along until he got within 
sight of him, and said, " Don't you see him .?" And the man 
who was sitting there, cracking hickory nuts, thought it was 
his partner with the sheep, and they stood still looking at 
him, and he says, " Is he fat .? Is he fat ? I say, is he fat f " 
And the fellow that had him on his back give him a chuck, 
and says, " Here he is, take him, fat or lean !" and the ghost 
broke and run, and the other man run, and the lame man 
beat his partner home. So much for that ghost story. So 
you see, reader, ghosts and spirits are nothing but imagina- 
tion. The only spirit we have is Alcohol, and when it gets 
into a man it stretches him out, and sometimes persons come 
along and imagine it is a ghost. So ends the ghost story and 
Spiritualism. 

ABOUT BIGAMY. 

Let me give the reader a few items on Bigamy. They say 
bigamy is a wrong and a curse to the land. So say I, but I 
noticed, during my visit to Salt Lake, that it is one of the 
handsomest cities in the United States, with beautiful streams 
of clear water running through the streets. And Brigham 
allowed a man to have as many wives as he was able to take 
care of, but he must be able to take care of them. There 
were no whisky-mills, no dance-houses, and no gambling- 
houses, and no houses of ill-repute. Let us see the differ- 
ence. Since Americans have been there, there are dance- 
houses, whisky-mills, gambling-houses, and houses of ill- 
repute. Let me ask the reader a question : How is it that 
in the United States men run away with other men's wives, 
married men keeping three or four different women, outside 
of the family circle, and no notice taken of that ? Which is 
the best law, to allow a man to marry a number of women 
and be able to take care of them, or allow a man to marry 
one and be not able to take care of her, and running away 



io6 

with several, and no notice of it ? Then I am not an advo- 
cate of these doctrines, but I only say that we, some of the 
colored people, who are possessed of little learning, take 
notice of these matters. Look at Salt Lake four years ago, 
and look at it to-day, and you will see the difference. I say 
Brigham is an old man, and I say that we should let him 
alone during his lifetime. 



ABOUT THE MODOC WAR. 

A FEW ITEMS THAT CAME UNDER MY NOTICE. — THE GREAT 
TERRIFIC MODOC WAR IN OREGON. 

We, the American Army, have opened fire on this i6th of 
April, 1873, on the Modocs. And the battle was so great 
that we had to issue an extra record, telling the people that 
we have got the favorable position of the Modocs and holding 
it in possession, and our soldiers are strung along for over a 
mile on their best battle-ground, and the Warm Spring In- 
dians, about seventy-five, on the other side, leading the way. 
And we have thrown a few shells into their camp, and there 
is not an Indian to be seen. And the Warm Spring Indians 
fought bravely. And the Modocs say they are nearly Jiell. 
And by to-morrow, which is the 17th, there won't be any 
Indian left. They will all be killed. But here is the 8th 
day of May, 1873, and the only account that we have is, that 
there are only two killed. But they have slaughtered our 
soldiers too shamefully to record. And sent three of our 
best men — General Canby, Dr. Thomas, and Colonel Wright — 
to the grave, by the large band of Modocs, forty-seven %var- 
riors, while there was from 800 to 900 soldiers and Warm 
Spring Indians ; and the idea of letting the best men be 
killed ! It is a disgrace, according to my belief, to the 
American Government. The proceeding of such disgraceful 
acts I will not proceed to record any more. 



I07 

PRECIOUS SCRIPTURE WORDS. 

Be ye, therefore, merciful, as your Father is also merciful. 
Judge not, and ye shall not be judged : condemn not, and ye 
shall not be condemned : forgive, and ye shall be forgiven. 

Give, and it shall be given unto you : good measure, 
pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall 
men give unto your bosom. For with the same measure that 
ye mete withal, it shall be measured to you again. And he 
spake a parable unto them. Can the blind lead the blind ? 
Shall they not both fall into the ditch ? The disciple is not 
above his master, but every one that is perfect shall be his 
master. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy 
brother's eye, but perceive not the beam that is in thine own 
eye .? Either how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, 
let me pull out the mote in thine eye, when thou thyself be- 
holdest not the beam that is in thine own eye ? Thou hypo- 
crite ! Cast out first the beam of thine own eye, and then 
shalt thou see clearly to pull out the mote that is in thy 
brother's eye. For a good tree bringeth forth not corrupt 
fruit, neither doth a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. For 
every tree is known by its fruit ; for of thorns men do not 
gather figs, nor of a bramble-bush gather they grapes. A 
good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth 
forth that which is good, and an evil man out of the evil 
treasure of his heart bringeth that which is evil ; for of the 
abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh. And why call 
ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say } 
Whosoever cometh to me, and heareth my sayings and doeth 
them, I will show you to whom he is like : He is like a man 
which built a house, and digged deep, and laid the founda- 
tion on a rock, and when the flood arose the stream beat 
vehemently upon that house and could not shake it, for it 
was founded on a rock. But he that heareth, and doeth not, 
is like a man that, without a foundation, built a house on the 
earth, against which the stream did beat vehemently, and im- 
mediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great. 



io8 

CALIFORNIA. 

California as she always was, as she always will be. Cali- 
fornia not as she was, but as she is at the present time; not 
as she is at the present time, but as she will be. Writer, 
how explain this ? In early times we had surface diggings, 
only a foot from the surface of the earth, and every poor man 
could have a claim of his own. Not so now. We have hy- 
draulic diggings, owned by large capitalists. Then not as 
she was, but is at the present time. California was always a 
rich country for gold, and always will be. Then as she al- 
ways was so she always will be. Though she was a rich 
country, we had no large capitalists. Then not as she was. 
She was not noted then for such respectable societies as she 
is at the present time. We had no such buildings as Stan- 
ford's and Crocker's then as she has at the present time. We 
had no State Capitol, and railroads running through the 
State then as she has now. When I came to this State they 
had neither railroads, steamboats, stages, or carriages. Now, 
when I look around in San Francisco, I see splendid coaches 
and carriages. I could not see, at that time, fifty ladies in 
San Francisco. Now I see Montgomery street thronged 
with one thousand ladies. In my humble belief Montgomery 
and Kearny streets, in San Francisco, excel Chestnut street, 
in Philadelphia. Then California, not as she was, but as she 
is at the present time. Not as she is at the present time, 
but as she will be. We now cultivate our own soil, and raise 
our own provisions. We don't need to send East for provi- 
sions any more, as we did in early times. She does not 
support her ownself, but she supports other countries. Then 
may the writer say : as she always was, so she always will 
be. These things which I have recorded have come under 
my notice since I arrived in California, in 185 i. 



This book was commenced in 1869, and printed in 1873. 
I, James Williams, commenced to sell pamphlets of my 
book in April, 1853. The only fault I have with California 
is, that there is not Christianity enough. Though we have 
large churches, in my belief there is but little religion. I 
believe California is one of the most ungodly sections of 
the United States. Reprint April, 1893. 



109 

THE CHINESE IN CAUFORNIA. 

I now proceed to record a few items about the history of 
the Chinese in California. I believe, giving a rough guess, 
there is about 70,000 Chinese in California. And all appear 
to be industrious and persevering in business, and prosper- 
ous, own a large amount of property in the cities of San 
Francisco, Sacramento, and other places, and large store 
establishments. Some of our true Americans say they don't 
want them here ; that they will get so numerous that we 
Americans can't live. Didn't God create the Chinaman as 
well as the American ? He never made a mouth but that 
He prepared bread to fill it. Then let us trust in Him, and 
He will prepare ways for us all, and take care of us all like- 
wise. What would we do in the State of California but 
for the Chinamen .-' The rich people couldn't get along 
without them ; for servants and cooks, whether white or 
colored, it is difficult to hire ; therefore, they must have 
Chinamen as house servants. But, they say, we must drive 
the Chinamen out of California, for they work so cheap. 
As cheap as they work, they pay more for rent, and are taxed 
more than any other race of people. Drive them out .'' Ah, 
my learned friends, are you not aware that California is a 
free country .'* It is a part of the United States of Ameri- 
ca, and America throws open her doors for all nations. 
Now let me tell you a tale that I have heard from the age of 
a boy to the present time. In New York City, and the 
City of Philadelphia, in 1844, 1845, a cry was raised among 
the true American people against the Irish people. Allow 
me to use the phrase that the people used at that time. 
Some would say, " the Irish," others would say, " The damned 
Irish are all immigrating here from Ireland ; that we, the 
American people, would be starved, and couldn't get work 
on account of the Irish." But take notice, please, that the 
Irish have lived, we have lived, and no one has been starved 
yet. 

I want to call your attention to the fact, that in 1855, in 
Sacramento, there was a bill introduced into the Legislature 
to prohibit colored men from immigrating to the State of Cal- 
ifornia, and that those that were here should leave, and those 
that did not leave should be taxed heavily, and should wear 



no 

tags ; also, the same law was introduced in Oregon, While 
this was going on, Great Britain threw open her doors and 
invited us to Vancouver's Island. We commenced to flock 
there like bees, and the Sacramento merchants and property- 
holders began to intercede, and the bill went under the table, 
and we are all living in harmony up to the present time, and 
nobody is hurt yet. So, you see, my winning friends, that the 
Irish and the Niggers have outlived that sentiment, and now 
it is the Chinamen. Who are the best workmen we have in 
America ? The Irish. Who build your railroads ? The Irish. 
Who run your locomotives .'' The Irish. Who build your 
canals } The Irish. Who fought your battles in the war ? 
The Irish. Who work your hydraulic diggings in California } 
The Irish. Who increased the value of property in San 
Francisco .-' The Irish. While the true Americans, white 
and black, would come and look at the sandhills, would stick 
their hands in their pockets, and would walk away and say, 
"I wouldn't give two cents for the whole place." But the 
Irishman would come along, and squat his little tent, and 
would say, "This place will be good sometime," and he con- 
tinued to improve it, day after day, until his place became 
quite valuable. Then the American, like the eagle on some 
tall tree, watching the fish-hawk until he caught a fish, became 
anxious for the place, though he toiled none. If he couldn't 
buy at his own figure, he would set up some scheme or other 
to rob him out of it by bogus titles. So you will see what 
these three classes had to undergo. 



OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

Tho. Evening Torchlight, of Oakland, says, that James Wil- 
liams, once a slave in Maryland, has written in pamphlet 
form a history of his life and adventures. It sets forth many 
strange and adventurous tales, interesting and amusing. He 
canvassed Marysville and Sacramento, and sold many copies 
in both places. He is now selling his book in Oakland, and 
we can assure our readers that it is well worth the price asked 



Ill 

for it. The Sacramento Bee says, that James Williams, once 
a fugitive slave, has written an interesting book, containing 
a great amount of interesting and amusing matter, and is well 
worth the price asked for it. It reminds us of Defoe's " Rob- 
inson Crusoe " and "Sinbad the Sailor." A library, whether 
private or public, is not complete without one of these books. 
The Stockton Evening Herald says : This afternoon there 
was laid on our table a pamphlet, entitled " Life and Ad- 
ventures of James Williams, a Fugitive Slave, with a 
full description of the Underground Railroad." The work 
is an entertaining one, and those who have hitherto doubted 
the imaginative powers of this persecuted race should read 
it and disabuse their minds. The California San Francisco 
Alta says, that James Williams, a fugitive from slavery, has 
written a book of his experience, detailing the manner of 
operating the Underground Railroad. The author, who is 
an undoubted African, is offering his work for sale in person, 
and gives some interesting reminiscences while talking with 
his patrons. The Virginia Chronicle says, that James Wil- 
liams, a fugitive slave, has laid on our table a book, contain- 
ing an account of his many adventures and escapes from sla- 
very, and a full description of the Underground Railroad. 
From a hasty glance through the book we incline to the opin- 
ion that it is an interesting one, and is worth the price asked 
for it. We hope that the citizens will patronize and aid him 
in selling his book. The Gold Hill Evening News says, that 
James Williams, a colored man, is canvassing Gold Hill for 
the sale of a book, comprising his life and adventures while 
a slave at the South, his escape from slavery, a full description 
of the famous Underground Railroad, whereby said escape 
was effected, and other good reading matter. It is a neatly 
printed pamphlet of over lOO pages, and well worth reading. 

CHARLES A. RUSSELL. 

Reader, I will now record a few facts about the execution 
of Charles A. Russell, who was executed at San Francisco, 
Friday, July 25, 1873. These facts came under my notice, 
therefore I record them. He suffered the death penalty in 
the County Jail Yard, about half-past two, for the murder of 
James Grotty. He and his victim had been drinking through 



1 12 



the day, and both got quarrelsome. They had an altercation 
on the streets during the day, but were parted before they 
came to blows. 

Russell, a few hours later, met his victim in Cady's saloon, 
on the southeast corner of California and Montgomery streets, 
and the quarrel was renewed, Russell reminding Crotty that 
he had arrested him in Salt Lake for robbery, while occupying 
the position of U. S. Marshal, and Crotty retorting that he 
had never been in the State Prison, as Russell had. They 
finally came to blows, but again were separated by friends, 
and Russell left, vowing vengeance against his adversary. He 
went to several places to borrow a pistol, but failing in that* 
he went and bought one, and had it loaded. In passing 
Cady's saloon, he saw Crotty standing at the bar taking a 
drink. He stopped, and taking his pistol from his pocket, he 
cocked it, and advancing towards Crotty, who was uncon- 
scious of his presence, placed his hand on his shoulder, and 
as Crotty turned around, fired the pistol in his face. The 
bullet tore away a portion of the face and passed through his 
head, inflicting a ghastly wound, of which he died in a few 
days. He, Russell, was tried in the isth District Court, on 
9th of January. He was defended by H. R Barber and A. 
M. Crane, but the testimony was conclusive, and he was con- 
victed of murder in the first degree, and sentenced by Judge 
Dwindle to be hung on the 21st of March. A motion was 
made for a new trial, but it was denied. The Supreme Court, 
after examining the case, found nothing to warrant them in 
granting a new trial, and the judgment of the lower court 
was affirmed by Judge Dwindle, who, on the 27th of May, re- 
sentenced Russell to be hung on the 25th of July, 1873. The 
time passed quickly by to the doomed man, and to his many 
friends, who were using every endeavor to have the sentence 
commuted. He was attended by the Rev. Doctors Dodge, 
Cunningham and Williams, of the Presbyterian Church, in 
which faith he was educated. He was also attended by Dr. 
Carpenter, who remained with him up to ten o'clock of the 
night before the execution. In the meantime, the scaffold 
was being erected ; it was the same on which Devine was 
hung. Shortly after five o'clock, Russell awoke from his 
sleep. After making his toilet, he spent an hour with the 



113 

ladies in religious devotions. At half-past ten o'clock, Rus- 
sell was removed from his cell to the one next to the scaffold. 
He was neatly attired in a black suit, which he wore at the 
trial. Here he remained in conversation with Drs. Cunning- 
ham, Carpenter, and Dodge. At twelve o'clock the prison 
door was opened to admit those who had invitations from the 
Sheriff to witness the execution, and in a few moments 
several hundred people were inside the gates. In the mean- 
time, Russell's friends were trying to obtain a commutation 
of sentence from the Governor. The execution was to take 
place at one o'clock. At a few minutes past one, a dispatch 
was received, granting a respite of ninety minutes. 

The Reverend Doctors, in the meantime, had sent dis- 
patches to Governor Booth to obtain a pardon, who was at 
Donner Lake. The landlord of the hotel telegraphed back 
that the Governor was out with a boating party, and that the 
message could not reach him before three o'clock. The jailer 
having received this news, reported it to the Sheriff, who re- 
ported it to the prisoner, and told him that no reprieve had 
been granted, and that it was time for him to prepare. At 
a few minutes past two. Sheriff Adams emerged from the 
cell, followed by Russell. He walked up the steps leading 
to the scaffold with a steady step. He took his place on 
the trap, and standing erect and firm, he cast an un- 
daunted look on the crowd below him. He trembled with 
nervous excitement, and the muscles of his face twitched 
convulsively. 

A prayer was offered up by Dr. Carpenter in his behalf. 
The black cap was then drawn over his head, but was imme- 
diately raised by Dr. Carpenter, who said, " Kiss me good- 
bye, Charles." The Doctor stepped back, the signal was 
given by the Sheriff, the trap fell, and the doomed man was 
left hanging between heaven and earth. The body swung 
rapidly around several times, but there was no struggle, not 
a muscle moved, and there was no visible sign of life. After 
hanging for about thirty minutes, he was examined by the 
doctors, who pronounced life extinct ; he was immediately cut 
down and placed in a fine coffin, upon which was a silver 
plate, bearing the following inscription, " Charles A. Russell, 
died July 25, 1873." 



114 

HIS CAREER. 

He was born in the City of New York — where his parents 
now reside — in August, 1843, ^nd therefore was thirty years 
of age. At an early age he left school and went to learn the 
printer's trade. He was intelligent and ambitious, and ap- 
plied himself diligently to his case and study, until he became 
master of the trade, and acquired a fair education. When the 
Civil War broke out and the President issued the first call for 
volunteers, Russell abandoned his case in the office of Frank 
Leslie s Weekly, and entered the army. He was a brave sol- 
dier, and did good service for his country. He served his 
term of enlistment, and was honorably discharged. For three 
years after his discharge he led an idle and dissolute life. 
In 1867, he came to this coast, in search of his brother 
Phillip ; but when Charles arrived here, he found out that his 
brother had enlisted and gone to Arizona. He soon found 
himself without money or friends, and resorting to his modes 
in the East, he was soon spotted by the police. A short time 
afterwards he was arrested for stealing a suit of clothes in 
Sacramento, tried, and was convicted, and sentenced to the 
State Prison for three years. After his discharge from the 
State Prison, he went to Utah, and obtained a position as U. 
S. Marshal, and there made the acquaintance of Crotty, the 
man whom he murdered. He afterwards came to this State, 
and worked as a waiter in a restaurant in Sacramento City. 
He afterwards went to Vallejo, and there worked in a res- 
taurant for Mr. Page. In the course of time, Page saw indi- 
cations of criminal intimacy between his wife and Russell. 
A quarrel ensued, and Russell came to San Francisco, and 
became involved in the quarrel which led to his death. Page 
and his wife quarreled and separated, in consequence of her 
conduct with Russell. The latter wrote several letters to 
Mrs. Page while in jail last summer. Page intercepted two 
of them, and published them, as proofs of his wife's infidelity 
and Russell's bad character. Page was arrested and tried for 
tampering with the mails. While the trial was pending, he 
shot his wife, and, supposing that he had killed her, blew his 
brains out. Mrs. Page recovered and visited Russell fre- 
quently while in jail, until Russell's friends, who were striving 



115 

to have the sentence commuted, intimated to her that her 
visits would not help his case any, and she discontinued 
them. Russell denies the charge of intimacy with her, and 
that, with the statement that he did not intend to kill Crotty, 
constitute the main points in the statement to Dr. Carpenter, 
the truth of which he solemnly affirmed on the gallows, just 
before being launched into eternity, 

I, the writer of this book, record his history that it may be 
an example to the rising generation. 

Young men, shun drink and all vices, and you will not fall 
into this corral ; for drink is the cause of Russell being led to 
the gallows. Oh ! young ladies, as you read this book, take 
warning likewise, and may God help you to shun it also. 



THE MODOCS. 



I, the writer, record the hanging of the first Indians in the 
United States of America. Captain Jack, Sconchin, Black 
Jim and Boston Charley, Modocs, were hung October 3, 1873. 
Where they got the law from to hang the first Indians in the 
United States of America I do not know. Whether Congress 
has passed an Act authorizing State or Territory to hang 
Indians, or imprison them for life, I do not know. My opinion 
is, that the lower class of the Anglo-Saxon race have driven 
the Modocs into this horrible crime which they have commit- 
ted, by the unjust ways in which they have dealt with them. 
I have traveled this part of the country for more or less than 
twenty-four years, among the Indians, and I have never been 
molested by them. I have also visited the camps by myself, 
been in the caves with them, and witnessed the war-dance, 
and never was molested yet. Reader, I believe that they 
were trying to deal with Captain Jack like they deal with the 
freedmen down South, but Jack didn't see the point ; they 



ii6 

used to send out agents to collect money for the freedmen 
and distressed soldiers during the war, and they would stick 
the money in their pockets ; they would also bring great do- 
nations of clothing and provisions to them from different parts 
of the Northern States ; and what did they do with them ? 
They could not pocket that, but they made an auction, and 
sold them to the highest bidder, and those poor freedmen, 
who could not buy at auction, had to take a spin around the 
block and go without. Said the agents, "This had to be 
done to pay expenses." That was a plan they took to pocket 
more money. If this is a lie, I am not to be blamed, for the 
freedmen told me so down South. This is what they were 
playing on Captain Jack, but he would not stand it, and you 
hung him. I say it was wrong to hang him, because there 
was no law established by Congress to hang him. Let me 
hold Jeff Davis before you, reader, and ask you what you 
think of him .-' He was the cause of thousands of lives being 
lost, and widows distressed to-day in our land; cause of our 
President of the United States being assassinated. Was 
there no law to hang Jeff Davis, according to Congress .'' I 
say there was. Then why didn't you do it ? If he had been 
a poor Indian, we would. Remember, my reader, God 
created the Indian, the same as any American. 

Jack and his followers were hung at Fort Klamath, Cali- 
fornia, October 3, 1873. Slolux and Barancho were pardoned. 
The gallows was erected by Hiram Fields, post carpenter. 

The last day on earth of the savages was distinguished by a 
big talk, which lasted five hours. Dave Hill, one of the 
head men of the Klamath tribe, and Oliver Applegate, acted 
as interpreters. 

The Chaplain opened the talk. The Indians all listened 
attentively. Sconchin and Jack were the most attentive. 
The sentence was then read to them. Jack then replied : " I 
have heard the sentence, and know what it is ; but I feel I 
am more innocent than Hooka Jim, Bogus Charley, and 
Steamboat Frank. These young men started the murder. I 
was always in favor of peace. Bogus Charley was the first 
to propose the murder of General Canby. When Bogus 
proposed it, Boston sanctioned it. Bogus said, 'If you 
fail to help me, I will do it myself.' I know that Shack- 



117 

nasty killed Canby and shot Meachana, and Boston killed 
Thomas." 

Speeches were then made by the savages, but, of course, 
to no advantage. Captain Jack then referred to what Boston 
had said about his share in the massacre, and remarked : 
" Scarfaced Charley is my relative. He is a worse man than 
I am. I would like to make friends with General Wheaton, 
and punish the right parties." This caused great amusement, 
much to the disgust of the chief. He concluded : "If I am 
to die, it is well. I am ready to go and see my Great Spirit 
above." 

Sconchin then spoke as follows: "You all know me ; I 
was always a good man ; there never was a time that I did 
not want a white man's heart and ask advice from white men. 
I sent my boy to Yainox Reservation, and he chose a piece 
of land for his home. Boston Charley told the truth when he 
called me a woman. I was like a woman, and my voice was 
against war. I was always a peace man, but there was some 
young men that were rash and anxious to distinguish them- 
selves. Hooka Jim and some other boys made the trouble, 
and when I look at the irons on my legs, I feel as though they 
ought to wear them. I have always given the young men 
advice, shook hands with the whites, and here I am now, con- 
demned, with irons on my feet. I heard what the Great 
Spirit man had to say, and I think it good. I should not die 
for what others have done, but I will not find fault with the 
decision, but will go to meet my father in the Spirit-land. 
My own father lived and died long ago, when I was a boy. 
I often thought I should like to go and meet him in the 
brighter world, with the Great Spirit. If the law kills me and 
I go up to the Spirit-land, perhaps the Great Spirit will say 
to me, ' Sconchin, my law has taken your life, and I accept 
of you as one of my people.' It was not in my heart to do 
wrong ; but I was led away by the wishes of the young people. 
You know whether I am good or not, for you have tried the 
law on me. Hooka Jim always thought he was strong, a 
good shot, and did these things contrary to my wish. I spoke 
against the murder of the Commissioner. When the Big 
Chief in Washington read the evidence all over, he must have 
been led to believe that Sconchin was a wicked savage, and 



ii8 

did not know that Sconchin had used all his influence with 
the young men to keep them from doing these rash acts. 
The Great Chief has to depend on the evidence which he gets 
from his subordinates, and perhaps thinks Sconchin a bad, 
wicked man, while Sconchin has been a good, quiet Indian 
all the time. I will try to believe that the President is doing 
according to the will of the Great Spirit in condemning me to 
die. You may all look at me, and see that I am firm and 
resolute. I am to die. I leave my son. I hope he will be 
allowed to remain in this country. I hope he will be a good 
man. I have always looked on the younger men of my tribe 
as my especial charge, and have reasoned with them, and now 
I am to die for their bad character. I leave four children, 
and I wish them turned over to my brother Yainox. It is 
doing a great wrong to take my life. I would like to see those 
executed for whom I am wearing chains. I do not say my 
sentence is not right ; but after our retreat from Lost River, 
I thought I would come in and surrender myself. I felt that 
the boys had committed the murders, and that I had been 
carried along with the current. If I had blood on my hands, 
like Boston Charley, I could say, like him, I killed Canby — 
I killed Thomas. But I have nothing to say about the decision, 
and I never would ask it to be crossed. You are the law- 
giving party. You say I must die. I am satisfied if the law 
is correct. I have made a great speech. I would like to see 
the Big Chief, face to face, and to talk with him, but he is a 
long way off, like at the top of a mountain, while me at the 
bottom, and cannot go to him. My heart tells me that I 
should not die — that you do me a great wrong in taking my 
life. War is a terrible thing. All must suffer— the best 
horses, the best cattle, and the best men. I can now say let 
Sconchin die." The Chaplain now offered up an eloquent 
prayer. The venerable man wept like a child at its conclu- 
sion. The squaws and children of the old man were taken in 
the guard- house to take a last farewell. The anguish of the 
women was frightful. Scarfaced Charley, Hooka Jim, and 
Bogus Charley refused to see the condemned, and asked to 
be placed where they could see the execution. Six graves 
were dug a short distance from the post guard-house. Some 
one offered ^2,000 for Jack's body. 



119 

THE MORNING OF THE EXECUTION. 

The prisoners were led out, and seated in a wagon. The 
column then marched to the place of execution. The four 
condemned Indians were conducted to the drop, and the 
ropes adjusted by Corporal Ross, of Company G, Twelfth 
Infantry. Jack was placed on the right, next Sconchin, then 
Black Jim and Boston Charley. After adjusting the ropes, 
the Post-Adjutant read the orders of the President in regard 
to the execution of the sentence. Scarfaced Charley, Shack- 
nasty Jim, and Bogus Charley enjoyed the liberty of the camp. 
Scarface was liberated because the military recognized in him 
the best and fairest warrior in the tribe, and the one at pres- 
ent exerting the greatest influence over the band. He had no 
share in the Canby massacre, and though he is reputed to 
have killed more soldiers than any other Indian, he killed 
them all in open, square warfare. He was in no way con- 
cerned in the murders on Lost River, though he fired the first 
gun of 'the war. 



SOME ANTECEDENTS OF THE MODOC WAR. 

The Modocs are a part of a race whose career has been 
marked with bloody deeds. They are an offshoot of the 
Klamaths. It was during a revolution that the race became 
dismembered, and one Modoc broke off and established an 
independent race. Jack was the first chief among them 
worthy of note. His explanation of the matter is, that some 
white men, while passing through the country, had their 
horses stolen, and therefore opened war on the Modocs. This 
happened in 1864. Seventy-five emigrants were killed, and 
many more were laid away in Oregon. At this time, Ben. 
Wright was elected Captain of an independent Company in 
Yreka, and proceeded to the Modoc country on a mission of 



120 

vengeance. He first tried poison and failed ; he then had a 
peace talk. The Indians came, laid down their bows and 
arrows ; and, on a given signal being made by Wright, forty 
were killed ; a treaty was then made by Steele, and in the 
same year another was made by Huntington, which proposed 
that the Modocs should take up their residence on the Reser- 
vation. They did so, but soon returned to the old quarters. 
In 1859, Meacham was appointed Superintendent, but failed 
to conciliate them. They refused to return to their new 
homes, and Jack treated with insult the overtures made to 
him. He finally resolved to go to the Klamath Reservation, 
on condition that he should be allowed to select his home. 
At this point, the Medicine Man arose to his feet, and said, 
"We won't go there," drawing a pistol while speaking. A 
discussion then ensued, and the result was that the Modocs 
were allowed till next morning to consider. Jack then re- 
turned to camp, at which time a proposition was made to 
assassinate Meacham. In the meantime, peace was being 
tried to be made, and Commissioners were sent out for that 
purpose. The first Commission consisted of Meacham, 
Applegate, and Samuel Case, and was sent out to consult 
with Captain Jack, but, fearing treachery, he would not come 
out. On the 4th of March, Steele and Riddle were sent out 
to the Modocs, to explain the terms of peace more fully. He 
found that the Indians had washed off the white paint of 
peace, and were preparing for hostilities. The talk between 
them and the Indians was stormy. Jack said that the country 
was his, and he would fight before being moved; that he 
would not meet the Commissioners. On the 6th, the Indians 
seemed to relent. They sent word by a squaw that they ac- 
cepted the terms of peace offered by Steele. 

On the 9th, wagons were sent out to meet the expected 
Modocs, but none came, and the wagons returned empty. 
The second Commission was now composed of Dr. Thomas, 
Dyer, Applegate, Steele and Meacham. On the 6th of April, 
arrangements were made to meet the Indians on the 8th. 
Both sides were fearing treachery, and consequently the 
meeting was deferred from day to day. On setting out for the 
place, Toby Riddle held my horse, says Meacham, and told 
me not to go. A consultation was held, and it was resolved 



121 



to meet the Indians. On reaching the ground, the party 
found Captain Jack and six of his men. Before dismounting, 
I was satisfied that the Indians were all armed with revolvers, 
and this put me on the severest trial of my life. How the 
first moments were passed I hardly know. It was only in 
manceuvering for positions, the Indians making numerous 
changes, in order to bring the Commission party near to- 
gether, and as far from them as possible. In that they 
were successful, though Dyer and myself were working to 
prevent it. Canby and Thomas did not seem to understand 
it. Hooka Jim went to my horse, and secured him with 
a sage-brush. Then he put on my coat, and this confirmed 
my belief that treachery was to be enacted. Canby then 
made a short speech, and then turned and asked Thomas to 
speak. He made his speech coolly and calmly, with that 
slow distinct manner so peculiar to him. Sconchin then 
made a short speech, and, while Riddle was interpreting, 
there was seen coming from ambush two warriors, each with an 
armful of guns. The party arose to their feet, and I asked 
Jack what this meant. He replied by pulling a pistol from 
his side, and crying out that all was ready, at the same in- 
stant pulling the trigger of his pistol. The cap exploded, 
but the charge did not. He raised his pistol the second time 
and fired, the ball striking the general in the face. He then 
retreated a distance of forty yards, followed by Jack, and 
finally fell on the rocks, and then Jack stabbed him in the 
neck, and Ellen's man shot him with a rifle. Black Jim was 
to have dispatched Dyer, but he was not in position, and 
Jack ordered Hooka Jim to shoot him. Hooka Jim followed 
him for several hundred yards, but did not catch him. 
Sconchin was to have been my slayer, and he approached 
me with a revolver and knife. His first shot grazed my left 
shoulder. In return I aimed at Sconchin's heart, but it failed 
to fire. I then ran, pursued by Sconchin, who fired, shoot- 
ing me in the arm. Some of these shots stunned me, and I 
became unconscious. Boston Charley then prepared to take 
my scalp, but Toby interposed, with devices, to delay opera- 
tion, and when at length he had raised five or six inches of 
my scalp, Toby shouted, " Soldiers ! soldiers ! " and Boston 
left his work unfinished. Returning to consciousness some 



122 

time after, I heard the word of command given to the sol- 
diers, and I knew I was saved. The war was resumed. 

On the 1 6th of April the attack on the Lava Beds began, 
and lasted all day, the Indians disputing every inch of ground. 
On the third day they were thought to have left the Lava 
Beds and gone southward. On the 26th of April, while 
Captain Thomas was reconnoitering the Lava Beds, he was 
surprised, and forty-five of sixty-five men were lost. Soon 
after, General Gillim was relieved of the command, and 
General Davis succeeded. The Indians were harassed, shot, 
and driven by the troops until the 22d of May. Seventy 
Modocs surrendered, Captain Jack and some warriors still 
remaining in the field. To assist in his capture. Bogus 
Charley, Hooka Jim and Shacknasty Jim volunteered. On 
the 29th Jack and all his warriors surrendered to General 
Davis. Thus ended the Modoc War. 



THE FIRE IN THE YELLOW JACKET MINE, 
GOLD HILL. 

Now, reader, I will record for you some items about the 
great fire that occurred in Gold Hill, September 21, 1873. 

About three o'clock, September 20th, a fire was discovered 
in the Yellow Jacket Mine, Gold Hill. Soon after the fire was 
discovered, and while efforts were being made to extinguish 
it, there occurred a heavy explosion. Not long after the first 
explosion, a second one occurred of a heavier nature. As 
soon as the news of the fire reached the surface, the whistles 
of the works sounded an alarm of fire, and other whistles 
soon chimed in, bringing out the Gold Hill Fire Department. 
The origin of the fire seems to be involved in a mystery. 
Near the Belcher blacksmith shops is a winze, reaching to 
the 1 100-foot level. About eleven o'clock of the night before, 



123 

some of the timber at the foot of the winze took fire. The 
blacksmith then on duty extinguished this fire, as he thought, 
but not being quite sure that it was out, he told Louis Loui- 
zelle, who was next on duty, to see that the fire did not again 
break out. A fatal mistake was in throwing water down the 
main shaft. When the firemen reached the grounds, a dense 
volume of smoke was pouring out of the top of the shaft, and, 
by forcing the water down, forced the escaping gases through 
the Crown Point. The situation of the men below, down on 
the 1400 and 1500-foot levels, was most perilous for a time, 
that is, while the gases were being forced back by the water. 
One of the men, unused to mines, at the time of the explo- 
sion cried out that some one had thrown a stone down the 
incline, when the others, with ears better educated, cried out 
that some accident had happened above. All at once has- 
tened up the incline, and reached the surface in safety. All 
the lights not blown out by the first were extinguished by 
the second. The fiery blast injured Albert Lackey, Albert 
Burt, and Jacob Laity. Lackey's hair and whiskers were 
nearly burned off, and his clothing much burnt. The hoist- 
ing of the men was performed with safety and precision. 
The cages were rushed up and down the shafts, with their 
living freight, at a terrific rate of speed. 

List of the Killed. — George B. Mudd. He was a native 
of Missouri, and was forty-two years of age. He left a wife 
and four children. He was a member of Clifton Lodge, No. 
16, F. and A. M. His funeral took place under the auspices 
of the Masonic fraternity. James Waters, carman, at the 
Crown Point, was also found suffocated on the 1 100-foot 
lev'el of the same mine. He lived but a short time after 
being brought to the surface. He was a native of County 
Roscommon, Ireland, and was thirty five years of age. He 
had a father, mother, and sister, residing at Lowell, Massa- 
chusetts, from a visit to whom he had lately returned. James 
Niles was also found on the 1 100-foot level of the Crown 
Point. He was overtaken and overpowered by the gas while 
engaged in eating his supper. He lived about an hour after 
being brought to the surface. He was highly esteemed, was 
a native of Kennebec county, Maine, and was forty-two years 
of age. He left a wife and six children, from whom he had 



124 

been separated for ten years. Louis Louizelle was an under- 
ground blacksmith, in the employ of the Belcher Company. 
His body was found about 200 feet from the blacksmith 
shop, where the fire first started. He was a native of 
St. Mary's, Lower Canada, aged forty-four years. He left a 
wife and three daughters. W. S. Broadwater was a carman, 
and his body was found near the Jacket switch. He was 
unmarried, a native of Missouri, aged fifty years. He was a 
member of the Sarsfield Guard and Gold Hill Miners' Union. 
Thomas Cusick worked in the Crown Point. He was a native 
of County Limerick, Ireland, age twenty-eight years, and was 
a member of the Gold Hill Miners' Union. He has a sister 
in Wisconsin. He was unmarried. 

The Injured. — Albert Lackey, underground foreman of the 
Belcher, was badly burned while in the mines, trying to save 
his men, and is badly poisoned by the gas. Jacob Laity, 
another underground foreman, was brought to the surface in 
an insensible condition, but will recover. He worked like a 
hero in the lower levels. Albert Bevet, an underground 
foreman, was also raised to the surface in an insensible con- 
dition. He had grasped the cross-bar of the cage with such 
a grip that it required the strength of two men to loosen his 
hold when he arrived at the surface. William Jones, fore- 
man of Liberty Engine Company, No. i, was badly asphyx- 
iated. William Pritchard, of the Crown Point, while attempt- 
ing to escape from the mine, had his hair badly singed and 
his eyebrows burned off. James Dixon, John Shannon, John 
Young, and John Hays, cut and bruised. There were sad 
scenes about the works of the Yellow Jacket and Crown 
Point Mines, and while the fire was still raging, and explo- 
sions taking place under the ground, the excitement was 
intense. Hundreds were soon collected about the hoisting 
works, as the majority of these had friends and relatives in 
the fiery lower levels. When the dead and dying were 
brought to the surface, and the worst fears of some were 
realized, some heart-rending scenes were enacted. There 
were also joyful meetings and greetings. Efforts to confine 
the fire were made as soon as it was possible to enter the 
mines in safety, which was shortly after the last explosion. 
Sam Jones, Superintendent of the Crown Point, at once set 



125 

men to work at closing all communication between his mine 
and the Jacket. The timbers were knocked out of the drifts 
for the space of several feet, and the points so cleared filled 
with dirt. In the direction of the Imperial and the Old Yel- 
low Jacket works the same precautionary measures were 
adopted. 

It was determined to give the fire no chance to spread, 
though it was luckily in a place where there was little danger 
of its extending to other sections of even the Yellow Jacket. 
The fire was soon discovered to be in the winze, extending 
up from the 1300-foot level to the 1 100-foot level, and to this 
winze it had been confined. The fire burned the timbers out 
of the winze between the two levels named. The Gold Hill 
firemen were early on hand and had worked like heroes, 
though their efforts at first were misdirected. But as soon as 
they were directed, they were actively engaged everywhere. 
Some of the Virginia firemen were actively engaged. Luckily 
there was an abundance of water in the tanks connected with 
the works, hydrants near at hand, and plenty of hose. Men 
got down in the mines, and, carrying strings of hose through 
the 1 100 foot level, attacked the 1 100-foot level. A hole 
was cut in the pump-column and hose attached at a point 
where, by properly working the pump, a pressure of 200 feet 
of water was obtained. In the start, men took the Babcock 
fire-extinguishers, kept in the mine, and, approaching near, 
played upon the fire at the bottom of the winze. Little 
could thus be done, as the burning brands and timbers 
dropped down the winze faster than any could be extinguished. 
It required two or three days for the timbers to burn out of 
the winze. 

KATS ASPHYXIATED. 

Throughout the levels of the mines, where the poisonous 
gas and flames swept, were to be seen, lying upon the floor, 
hundreds of rats. They were probably startled from their 
hiding-places by the explosion, or came out upon the floors 
when they found it difficult to breathe in their holes. At 
any rate, they came out and were killed in great numbers. 
Where a rat cannot exist, how could man be expected to live .'' 
The dead human bodies were carried to an undertaker's, as 



126 

soon as taken out of the mines. A large crowd was collected 
about the undertaker's nearly all day, viewing the bodies. 
Coroner Holmes, who was just from California, impanelled 
a jury, and held an inquest on the bodies of the victims of 
the disaster, on Tuesday afternoon, at ten o'clock, at the office 
of Justice Wright, Gold Hill. 

SOME FURTHER PARTICULARS ABOUT THE WASHOE MINES, &C. 

Now, reader, I will proceed to inscribe the names of the 
principal mines, and describe their hoisting works, also the 
location of the ledge of the honey-combed city, which is 
called Virginia City. Why do you call it the honey-combed 
city ? Because she is tumbled all over — all through full of 
holes, like a honey-comb. Sierra Nevada, Gold & Curry, 
Savage, Hale & Norcross, Chollar Potosi, Julia, Imperial 
and Empire, Gold Hill Quartz, French, Bacon, Eclipse, 
Jacket, Crown Point, Belcher, Seg. Belcher, Caledonia, 
Knickerbocker, Baltimore, Overman, Silver Hill, Kentuck, 
Dayton, Arizona, Utah. All those mines are extensive 
mines, and have extensive hoisting works also. This visit I 
paid there in 1873. These hoisting works have also power- 
ful machinery, and large and powerful walking beams. The 
depths of these mines are 1400 feet, 1500 feet, 1600 feet ; the 
furthest depth, according to my knowledge, is 1700 feet, but 
they run down a perpendicular so many feet, then glance off 
to an incline. The cage is double- decked, carrying down 
twelve men at a time, six men in each cage ; and in each 
tunnel four men to a pick. One works about ten minutes, 
he falls back to take air, and another takes his place, and so 
it continues until they go round. They work eight hours, at 
four dollars a day. Those tunnels are about five to six feet 
wide, and six feet high. As they work, they lay a floor and 
side-up and cap overhead, to secure against the falling of the 
dirt, and they lay their railroad track on the floor. They work 
three or four feet ahead of them, and throw the dirt in the 
cart, and run it out of the tunnel on to the hoisting works. 
Many places where the rock is stout, they tunnel for hundreds 
of feet without casing, and throw the dirt behind them. In 
the mines, tunnels are crossing each other, running east and 



12/ 

west, north and south. That is what we call the honey- 
combed city. They can go from one company's mine to 
another. A man who is unacquainted with these mines would 
lose himself, and could not find his way out. The silver 
ledge commences at what is called the Old Comstock, and 
runs north and south. 

During my visits there, in 1873, I discovered that the ledge 
laid in pillars. You will find it in one place, then, for 200 or 
300 feet, you will find it again ; then it disappears for 200 or 
300 feet — then you will find it again. This is what I mean 
by saying that it lies in pillars. I came to a conclusion, and 
do believe, that these mines are the richest in the world. 
There is more money in that city, and more in circulation 
there than any other city on the Pacific coast. I then took a 
full observation from Gold Hill and Silver City, which ex- 
tends about five miles from Virginia City, Gold Hill and 
Silver City are about one-fourth of a mile wide, and thinly 
settled. I also noticed that Carson Valley is a beautiful val- 
ley, and plenty of farming seemed to be done at this time. I 
also noticed that Jack's Valley is a beautiful valley, and 
plenty of farming to be done at this time. I noticed that 
Carson City is thriving rapidly. They have built a beautiful 
mint, which is in operation ; also, a State Capitol, which is 
the Capitol of the State of Nevada. Reader, you need not 
think that these items are fictions, for I have crossed the 
summit of the Sierra Nevada seventeen times, four times on 
foot, and made safe journeys. Thank God for so much. Let 
me give you a few items how the people get wood off the 
highest mountains in Washoe Valley and Carson Valley. In 
some places they build a long trough, carry the wood there, 
put it in, then it runs to the foot of the mountain, and they 
then put it in cars. In other places they build flumes, and 
carry it round the mountains, just as they want it, for four 
and five miles, or further. Upon the tops of these mountains 
there are lakes ; they carry the water from the lakes to these 
flumes, and they put on a big head of water in these fiumes 
from the lakes. Then they throw the wood in, and the force of 
the water carries the wood down to a trussel-work, which is 
built on the level of the surface of the earth ; there they have 
men to take it out of the water and throw it on the ground, and 



128 

there they have cars to load it in, and carry it into the city. 
I noticed, in 1873, in crossing over the C. P. R. R., that they 
have snow-sheds forty-five miles long, large and extensive 
wooden pillars, a foot and a half thick, so if the cars should 
run off the track, they could not run off the grade. I hear a 
great deal about the railroad, but I think they deserve a 
great deal of credit for building such a road; but it seems 
like they get no credit. My opinion is that fifty miles of that 
C. P. R. R. cost more than all the U. P. put together, or any 
other road in the United States. 



I now conclude this book, and promise to give you more 
at some future time. The following piece is clipped from the 
Yolo Democrat : 

We have been presented by the author with a copy of a 
work just published by himself, being an account of his own 
life and adventures, entitled " Life and Adventures of James 
Williams, a fugitive slave, with a full description of the 
Underground Railroad." Williams is a very pleasant, intel- 
ligent colored man, who has lived on this coast many years. 
He was formerly a slave in Maryland, but escaped under an 
assumed name. We have not had time to examine the work 
critically, but, from a cursory glance, judge it to be well 
gotten up, and liberal in its ideas towards other races, par- 
ticularly the whites. He will remain in town a day or two, 
and call upon our people, so that they can, for fifty cents, 
procure a copy of his book, and help a poor man — Twenty- 
four Years of Life and Adventures in the State of California. 



Let us rejoice and sing unto the Lord God of hosts. 

There is a fountain filled with blood 

Drawn from Emanuel's veins, 
And sinners plunged beneath that flood 

Are losing all their guilty stains. 

Chorus — I do believe, I now believe 
That Jesus died for me, 
And by his blood, his precious bloody 
I shall from sin be free. 



129 

Thou dying Lamb, thy precious blood 

Shall never lose its ]X)wer, 
Till all the ransomed church of God 

Be saved, to sin no more. 

Chorus — I do believe, I now believe, etc. 



THE CHRISTIAN'S VOYAGE THROUGH LIFE AND DEATH. 

Though the sea is rough and stormy, 
And the winds blow fierce and loud, 
Jesus Christ shall be my captain 
And I'll make the port at last. 

Chorus — We're out on the ocean sailing, 

Homeward bound we swiftly glide •, 
We're out on the ocean sailing 
To a home beyond the tide. 

Jordan's billows all around me. 
And the stormy tempests rage ; 
Jesus shall command the ocean. 
And will give a homeward breeze. 

Chorus — We're out on the ocean sailing, etc. 

Yes, I think I see the city, 
And the light-house on the shore; 
Hark ! I hear the angels singing, 
Come, oh come, my brother, come ! 

Chorus — We're out on the ocean sailing, etc. 

Yonder comes the angel pilot. 
Comes to waft ray spirit home ; 
Soon with them I shall be singing 
There with Moses and the Lamb. 

Chorus — W^e're out on the ocean sailing, etc. 

Soon I shall be in the Kingdom, 
Soon I shall outlive the storm; 
Soon I shall be in the Kingdom, 
There around my Father's throne. 

Chorus — We're out on the ocean sailing, etc. 



130 

There the winds will all be silent, 
There the tempest never rage, 
All the sailors that are faithful 
There shall meet to part no more. 

Chorus — We're out on the ocean sailing, etc. 

There I shall meet my brother, 
I shall meet my father, too, 
And with them I shall be happy. 
And never, never part again. 

Chorus — We're out on the ocean sailing, etc. 



5tP 2? '9^'' 




Page 127 




Page 127. 





Page 129. 



5f P 27 1945 



o 



LIFE 



ADVENTURES 



James Williams 



A FUGITIVE SLAVE 



WITH A FULL DESCRIPTION OF THE 



UNDERGROUND RAILROAD 



KIKXH EDITION 



PHILADELPHIA; 
A. H. SiCKLER & Co., 514-16 Minor Street 

1893 



Full Particulars of the Underground Railroad. 

Coming to California. 

The Case of Archy. 

Connection with the African M. E. Church. 

Sketches of the Catholic and Protestant Churches. 
The Story of Charles Thompson. 

Henry Box Brown. 

Escape from Slavery of a Young Woman in a Box. 

The Story of Harry Grimes. 

Story of George Laws. 

Story of Pete Mathews. 

The Story of Leah Green. 

Liberty, or Jim Bowlegs. 

Abram Galoway and Richard Easier. 

Story of Ann Johnson and Lavina Woolfley. 

The Story of William and Ellen Craft. 

Story of Barnaby Grigby and others. 

Stockholders in the U. G. R. R. 



ALSO, 

Spiritualism. 

Bigamy. 

The Modoc War. 

The Chinese in California. 

The Christian's Voyage. 

Hanging of Captain Jack. 

Twenty-four Years Life in. California. 

Fire in Virginia City. 

Honey-comb City. 

Are all contained in this Book. 



